


(Not-So) Strong Riposte

by twoturtlesinabathtub



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Canon-compliant violence, Humor, Internalized Homophobia, Language, Laslow being a drama queen, M/M, Saizo being a bit of a bitch, Some angst, Spoilers, awkward as hell romance, but hey that's normal for both of them, not much though, spoilers for Revelation route, supports novelization (sorta) plus plenty of other shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-10
Updated: 2017-12-05
Packaged: 2018-11-12 09:20:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 29,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11158932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twoturtlesinabathtub/pseuds/twoturtlesinabathtub
Summary: Their relationship was a series of direct or feint attacks, parries, and counters. Laslow and Saizo thought that they knew how to fight one another. They were ridiculously off the mark.Saizo and Laslow's C-A supports with what happens in between, and what possibly comes after. Spoilers for Laslow's true identity.





	1. First Impressions

**Author's Note:**

> O-kaaaay, Saizo and Laslow's supports in Revelation are so great that they deserve to be written out. Hopefully, I'm up to the task. Like I said, this isn't just the support conversations; those are only a fraction of the story. The rest is my extrapolation of what happened in between the supports, and what possibly happened afterwards.
> 
> Riposte (noun, pronounced as "ri-POHST"): 1) Fencing: a quick thrust given after parrying a lunge. 2) A quick, sharp return in speech or action.

"I don't like you."

When Laslow had been approached by one of Prince Ryoma's retainers—the angry one who was always glaring—he hadn't expected the ninja to begin a conversation with that nice little observation. "I'm...sorry?" asked Laslow. "Could you repeat that?" Perhaps he'd misheard.

Saizo took a step closer. Funny how such a little thing could seem so intimidating. "I don't like you," he repeated brusquely. Ahh, so Laslow _had_  heard him correctly. 

Well, that was no good.

"Why did Prince Xander choose a fop like you as his retainer?" demanded the ninja, arms crossed.

"Hmm..." Ignoring the fact that his Hoshidan counterpart had insulted him, Laslow thought back to the day when Xander had challenged him to a duel in order to test his abilities. The openly impressed look the prince had had on his face as he'd barely bested Laslow was an image the retainer would likely never forget. "Probably because I'm amazing!" he replied dreamily, caught up in the memory.

"Don't be flip with me!" Saizo snapped. "When it comes to retainers worthy of serving a future king..." his eye ran over Laslow in obvious disapproval, "look no further than myself, the fifth to bear the Saizo name."

Laslow whistled, determined to seem unaffected. "The fifth, huh? Is that a thing with Prince Ryoma? He's big on lineage and all that?"

The ninja's anger grew to the point where he forgot to keep his dead eye closed. "You _dare_ to mock my liege?" he seethed.

Laslow backpedaled. "That wasn't what I—"

"I cannot fathom how the likes of you became Prince Xander's retainer. Where did you come from, anyway?" Saizo slowly began to circle the mercenary. Laslow, despite his instincts warning him not to turn his back on the masked man, forced himself to stand his ground. "How did you find your way into the royal family?" Saizo muttered.

Laslow, unsure if the ninja was speaking to himself or to him, chuckled awkwardly. "That's...complicated." He didn't want to get into that right then, especially not with a predatory assassin.

Saizo came to a stop after he'd made a complete circle, facing Laslow once more. He didn't speak, just stared, eyes—er, _eye_ , that is—narrowed in suspicion. "That's not an answer," he said finally.

What happened next was something that Laslow, frankly, should have seen coming. Saizo let out a grunt and launched a shuriken in his direction at near-blinding speed; with an extraordinary lack of finesse, Laslow jerked to the side in a mindless panic move. His wild eyes darted to trace the shuriken's path, finding it buried in the tree trunk right behind where his head had been. "Wha—! Are you _mad_?" he yelled. He gritted his teeth and tried to will away the sudden shakiness in his legs.

Saizo didn't look like he'd expended any energy whatsoever. "A man's fighting technique always reveals where he hails from. I'll read your origins through battle!"

Okay, _what_? Saizo was boggling Laslow's brain. How many poor, unsuspecting people had the Hoshidan retainer attacked in order to get that information? "This seems dangerous!" Laslow asserted nervously, hand twitching towards the hilt of his sword.

Saizo wasn't about to let up. "Heh...you dodged that one. But what about this?" And he hurled another shuriken.

"Aaaaah!" Laslow's cry as the weapon sliced his upper arm reverberated through the camp.

 

.~.~.

 

Several paces away, Oboro and Hinata were arguing—probably about something like the exact shade of Takumi's hair, but that was neither here nor there.

Upon hearing Laslow's shriek, Oboro looked over in his and Saizo's direction, head cocked. "What's going on over there?" she asked Hinata.

The samurai turned to look as well. "Dunno," he said. "It just looks like they're having a conversation to me."

Oboro rolled her eyes. "Really? That's all? I'm pretty sure that normal conversations don't involve yelling like that."

"Yeah, well, it's a conversation with _Saizo_."

"Okay, you may have a point there." Oboro looked back over at the two men, eyes narrowing. "That Nohrian's got a pretty girly scream on him."

Hinata was a little disturbed by the look of satisfaction Oboro had had on her face since she'd realized that Laslow was in pain. "Uhh, sure. D'you think he needs our help?"

"Please, he'll be fine," scoffed Oboro, waving a hand dismissively. "Anyway, as I was saying, Lord Takumi's eyes are..."

 

.~.~.

 

"Don't run," Saizo warned as he continued to advance on Laslow. "Or do you want me to slit your throat?"

Laslow gulped when he felt his back finally pressing up against the tree. "I get the feeling you're not kidding when you say that...." Gods, he was going to die here. Under this pretty cherry blossom tree. At least his untimely demise would be picturesque.

"I'm not pulling any punches. If you don't want to die, fight back." Quick as a wink, Saizo snatched Laslow's now-wounded arm in an attempt to haul the Nohrian man away from the trunk and force him to engage.

"Ow! Don't grab me so hard! How am I supposed to fight you if you won't let _go_ of me?" Laslow's face was heating up at the manhandling, much to his mortification. "Listen, you asked for—" Suddenly Laslow made a show of looking over Saizo's shoulder. "Oh! Lord Ryoma!" he called with a smile.

" _What_? Where?" said Saizo. Laslow had never seen the ninja's concentration break so instantly. Just as Saizo turned his head, trying to spot his liege, Laslow made his move.

"Hah! Sucker!" he crowed. Able at last to unsheath his blade, he flicked it at Saizo's right forearm, drawing blood. It was only fair, after all.

Saizo dropped his shuriken in shock, whipping back to face his opponent with a hiss. "Ugh...you coward!" he fumed, inwardly cursing himself for falling for such an obvious ruse.

"You attack me out of nowhere, and _I'm_ the coward? We're allies! This is insane!" Laslow shot back. It looked to him that Saizo was readying to retaliate, though, so he figured now was as good a time to retreat as any. "Why don't we just call it there?" he said, taking a couple steps towards the barracks. "See you around!" He turned and fled.

Saizo glared after him for several moments, but eventually looked down to assess his wound. "...That coward," he growled to himself. "He's got some nerve, pulling such a cheap trick."

This wasn't over. He would find Laslow and force him to reveal his enigmatic origins, by whatever means necessary. "I refuse to accept that a dog like him holds a position equal to mine...."

 

.~.~.

 

"I swear to you, I am not making this up!" Laslow cried, almost in a frenzy. "That maniac tried to kill me!"

"Mm-hm, sure. Okay, just take one liiiittle step to the left—no, no, _my_  left. Right, perfect." And just like that, Odin struck a pose and went back to speaking like an overwrought actor with a brain injury. "Now, fey Laslow of the Azure Skies, confess your grievance to this humble servant of the shade!"

If Laslow weren't so used to Odin's mannerisms, he would've punched him. "I just told you," he replied testily. "Saizo attacked me not more than half an hour ago. He came at me right out of the blue!"

"Who?"

"You know, the ginger ninja. One-eyed, wears a mask, doesn't talk to anyone."

"Ah, Saizo...Prince Ryoma's right hand. That omnipresent creator of apprehension who stalks his prey from the shadows—much like myself." One of the dark mage's hands came up to stroke his chin. "This man, who you allege never speaks, spoke to _you_? Just what transgression have you committed to incur his wrath?"

Laslow sighed. "I don't think I did anything; it's like all of a sudden he got it into his head that I'm not trustworthy." His voice dipped a little lower. "Almost as if he sensed that I'm not...from here. That _we're_ not from here."

Odin's eyes flashed. "What did you tell him?"

"Nothing, promise. I just wanted you to know that he might be trying to look into our pasts."

"Bah," his companion scoffed, "who can truly tell what the past is to us anymore?"

Laslow smiled grimly. "Just thought I'd let you know, in case he started creeping around."

"Duly noted, my friend! I assume you'll be visiting our bad-tempered bosom buddy when we conclude here, correct?"

"Well..." Laslow had already had a trying day—he didn't feel like heaping more stress onto the pile. "I told _you_ already. Couldn't you just do it? You know, share the load and all that?"

"I don't think Selena would appreciate being called a 'load'...."

"Oh, come on! She's still angry with me from when I mistook her for a village girl from behind and patted—well—hers!"

Odin sniggered. "I forgot about that. Didn't Prince Xander lock you in his chambers when he found out?"

"I refuse to discuss this any longer," he replied stiffly, face crimson. "Just tell Selena to be careful, will you? I'm off to bed."

He paused on his way out. "By the way: why exactly did you have me move to your left when I came in?"

Odin winked. "You were preventing the sunlight from illuminating my newly conceived pose." He struck it again. "Inspiring, isn't it? ...Laslow?"

The mercenary had already left. Odin grumbled to himself and snatched up a tome that had tumbled to the floor. How rude.


	2. Incongruous

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey-o! Thanks to everyone for the kudos and comments. [finger guns] You're all beautiful.
> 
> Incongruous (adjective, pronounced as "in-KONG-groo-us"): 1) Not harmonious in character. 2) Inconsistent.

 

As it turns out, being stalked by an assassin can wear on your nerves. Just a smidge. No big deal, really—except that Laslow had been running on _maybe_  four hours of sleep every night for nearly a week after his encounter with that Hoshidan menace. It was really starting to catch up to him. He had dark circles under his eyes! How was he supposed to hit it off with the ladies when he was looking so gaunt and haggard? That red haired silverware slinger was pure evil.

After Laslow had dragged himself through his duties one morning, Prince Xander had finally taken a long look at his retainer and dismissed him from said duties for the rest of the day. He'd said something along the lines of Laslow needing a good deal of rest in order to be fully functional the next day. Basically, it was the princely way of saying, "Go get some sleep—you look like hell."

He went back to his room, collapsed face-first onto the bed whilst still fully clothed, and was dead to the world. He woke up a few hours later to the sound of the mess hall bell. Lunch time. Ugh.

Grumbling to himself, he trudged across the astral castle grounds to the mess hall. A boisterous call of his name brought his attention to Odin, who was waving at him almost frantically from one of the far tables. Selena, looking as perpetually disgruntled as ever, was already sitting next to him. Laslow acknowledged the mage, then went to join him and Selena after getting his lunch.

"Hoy there, brother-in-arms!" Odin exclaimed, giving Laslow a hearty slap on the back with enough force that the poor mercenary's nose almost hit the mystery meat on his plate. Why did he sit next to Odin, again?

"What's wrong with you?" asked Selena bluntly. "You look like you just got hit by one of the convoy wagons."

"Indeed," agreed Odin. "Your darkened visage suggests that the spirits of the Stygian abyss may well claim your wearied soul the moment your guard is lowered."

"I get it, I get it—I look tired," Laslow mumbled. "I've been having trouble sleeping as of late."

"Hm. That so?" Selena frowned as she cut into her food, sounding utterly disinterested.

"Ah!" Odin raised a finger. "His predicament arises from constantly looking over his shoulder, quivering piteously as he awaits his impending doom." He looked over to Laslow. "Am I correct?"

"Uh..." Laslow's sluggish brain was straining to translate Odin's usual moonspeak. "I'm still being watched, if that's what you're asking."

" _Watched_?" Selena interjected. "Gawds, who'd you piss off this time?"

"I didn't mean to make anyone angry!" said Laslow defensively. "He came at me without warning!"

"Who did?"

"Saizo the Fifth," Odin replied through a mouthful of rice. "Laslow thinks he's watching him."

"I don't 'think' he is, I _know_! And it's ruining my life." Laslow folded his arms on the table and his head dropped onto them. "I can't go on like this," he groaned.

Selena snorted. "Stop being such a drama queen. So, why's he being all sneaky with you? And do you even have any proof?"

Laslow made a vague hand gesture. "He's a ninja. Sneaking around is what ninja do. That and stabbing people with those little pointy thingies." His brain couldn't even supply the word "shuriken". Naga above, he needed sleep. "And no, I don't have concrete evidence, but trust me: I can just sense it." 

Odin put a hand in front of his face dramatically. "We must exercise caution, Selena—he may be surveilling the two of us, as well. Constant vigilance!"

"Huh?" Selena's eyes narrowed. "Why all three of us?"

"Saizo is endeavoring to navigate that dark labyrinth, at the end of which lays the truth regarding our mystical orig—"

"Oranges!" Laslow interrupted, glaring at Odin sharply. Moron. Who knew if Saizo was listening in on them at that very moment? Odin seemed to understand the look, and his eyes dropped down to his plate sheepishly.

"Ugh, fine, be that way," Selena grumbled, stabbing at her vegetables with more force than was necessary. "When did this even start?"

"Saizo tried to kill him a few days ago." Despite Odin's habit of talking with his mouth full being a gross one, it at least forced him to speak normally. "Just went nuts. I think that happens a lot."

"...You're joking," said Selena.

"I wish," replied Laslow with a grimace. He looked from side to side and then brought his hand up to his mouth, as if to cover up a yawn. "We'll talk more later," he said lowly, his lips concealed, and Selena nodded casually as she stood to take her plate back toward the kitchens. Laslow glanced at Odin and saw him giving him a smirk. "What?"

The mage's grin widened. "And you say _I_  suck at being subtle?"

The _thwack_  that Laslow's spoon made when it connected with Odin's forehead was immensely satisfying.

 

.~.~.

 

Fortunately for Laslow, the army's workload had been a bit lighter than usual for the past couple of weeks. Lord Corrin was convinced that it wouldn't last for long, though: they'd been transported back to the astral castle right after defeating an undead, semivisible army of a race known only as "Vallites". The frantic skirmish, during which they'd teleported from floating isle to floating isle, had only foreshadowed the challenge that was likely to come.

Still, for that brief moment, the castle was relatively calm. Yes, the armories were frequently being restocked, the smithy was operating around the clock, and a small jail housed some unfortunate souls who'd dared to attack their patchwork army; but there was also a shop that exclusively sold accessories, beautiful statues of the Dusk and Dawn Dragons both, and some weirdo had even decided to open up a lottery stall. It was a strange place, but to Laslow, it already felt like home.

Anyway, it was a good thing that nothing right then was incredibly urgent, because the mercenary felt like he was about to lose his sanity. It had been another couple of days after his stilted conversation with Selena and Odin, and Laslow's sleep issues were improving, but he was still paranoid as hell. Saizo had made quite the impression.

When would the Hoshidan strike next? The question was ever-present in his mind, and Laslow was afraid of what might happen to him if he were to report Saizo's attack to Lord Xander or Prince Ryoma. It would be Saizo's word against his—and anyway, Saizo would probably kill him if he even tried.

Leaving through the rear door of the rod shop after a short shift, Laslow sighed quietly and leaned back against its wall. He tilted his head to the sky, closing his eyes and breathing deeply. He almost wished that Saizo would just show himself, put Laslow out of his misery.

What a cruel irony that _that_  was the wish he was granted.

"Laslow."

"Aaaaah!" Laslow screamed, leaping away from the ninja who'd suddenly materialized not two feet to his right. Prancing pegasi, but the man was quiet.

Saizo snorted. "What a pathetic yelp. Only a weak man fears his own allies."

Laslow's jaw dropped in shock. "What ' _ally_ '? You attacked me!" he retorted. His mood flashed from surprise to anger, then to guarded confusion in seconds. "So what is it this time? Are you here to apologize...?"

Predictably, the ninja looked almost offended by the mere suggestion; Laslow knew an apology from this man was much too good to be true, but still felt he had to ask. "No," Saizo snapped, squaring his shoulders. "Fight me."

Laslow reeled back in terror. "So you did come to kill me!"

"I don't want to kill you," said the very man who'd threatened to slit his throat just days before. "It just galls me to know you're a retainer to a future king. As the fifth in a line of Saizos, I find this unacceptable.... A coward who refuses to account for himself cannot really be on my level."

Laslow grimaced. "You're so full of yourself....!" Damn this man and his unshakable confidence. What Laslow wouldn't do to have a fraction of Saizo's silent, brooding self-assurance. He'd seen firsthand that many people found that sort of thing attractive, after all.

"If you have a problem with that, fight me," Saizo provoked, eyes narrowed. "Show me what you can do."

"Okay, I get what you're up to, but I don't think it's a good idea for allies to fight." And there was no way in hell he wanted to fight Saizo, in _any_ capacity—not with weapons, real or blunted, and certainly not in hand-to-hand combat. "Why don't we settle this peacefully?" 

He didn't dare hope that Saizo would even consider such a proposition, so he was surprised when the readhead relaxed a bit. "What did you have in mind?" said Saizo.

Laslow blinked rapidly. "Oh," he muttered, at a loss, "I dunno...." Then it hit him. Of course! There was something at which Laslow was confident he would be better than Saizo—not the _best_ , per se, as his track record would attest, but there was no way he could lose to this hulking brute. "We could have a charm-off," he said with a jaunty wink. "Whoever gets the most compliments wins. That sort of thing."

Saizo just stared at him for a moment, as if unwilling to believe he'd heard the suggestion. "You're joking, surely. How is this meant to settle anything?"

"Come on, think about it. A king's retainer should make a good impression on whoever he meets!" That sounded like a reasonable explanation, didn't it? "If people have a problem with the retainer, it'll reflect badly on the king, too."

Saizo's eye narrowed as he considered Laslow's words. "...I'm not entirely convinced, but you may have a point," he said finally.

"So there you go! I'll prove my worth to you with a charm offensive!" He looked Saizo up and down, noting the scrunched brow, raggedy scarf, and aggressive posture. Heh. "Should be pretty easy against a surly, badly dressed ninja...." he muttered.

He should've known that Saizo's hearing would have picked that up. "What did you say?" he growled.

"Haha, what?" blustered Laslow, feigning ignorance. "Nothing! Come on, let's get to it!"

Unfortunately for him, he couldn't see the hint of a smirk hidden underneath Saizo's mask.

 

.~.~.

 

"Seventy-two, seventy-three..."

Laslow stared at Saizo, quietly fuming. The ginger bastard. He wanted to scream.

"...And the young couple at the end made it seventy-five," Saizo finished, sounding smug. "Seventy-five to what again?"

"Sixteen!" Laslow wailed, thoroughly humiliated. "I only got sixteen! You don't have to rub it in!" He clutched his head, mentally cursing every god he knew. "How did I lose? On what world does this make _sense_? I'm me, and you're some masked assassin! This is crazy!" Now that he'd failed at his own suggested contest, he was worried Saizo would just attack him again. "Why did people respond so well to you? It certainly wasn't your looks or attitude!"

"It's a ninja secret."

...Rude. Ruuude. "What? That's—no! Come on!" Laslow was glaring so heatedly that he was surprised there wasn't a hole burned into Saizo's head. Then it dawned on him. "Wait a second," he recalled to himself. "I've lost contests like this before to a masked man and a scary guy...so I never had a chance against a scary guy in a mask!"

Saizo arched a brow. "What are you mumbling about?" Then he noticed that Laslow's lower lip had begun to tremble and, to his horror, the Nohrian's face flushed as he let slip a sob. What the hell? He didn't know how to react to a grown man bursting into tears. "Ugh. Don't cry. It's shameful."

Laslow continued sniffling, rubbing one of his eyes and refusing to meet Saizo's stern but confused stare. "Well, I'm just a shameful guy," he choked out.

Saizo was sorely tempted to walk away from the sorry display, but something inexplicable was tugging at his conscience. Gross.

After standing there in silence and listening to Laslow's blubbering for a few more seconds, Saizo finally ground out, "...Forget it. We won't count this one." Laslow looked over at him with watery eyes gone wide in disbelief. "Being a king's retainer isn't a popularity contest anyway. We'll 'scratch it', as they say in Nohr."

"R-really?" asked Laslow hopefully. 

Saizo saw that the mercenary's lip was still wobbly, and he nodded. "We'll compete at something else," he asserted. "But you have to stop crying."

Laslow blinked through his tears, staring at Saizo like he was experiencing a moment of clarity. The redness in his cheeks refused to fade. "Okay...it's a deal," he agreed. Then, quieter, "You know, you're nicer than you look sometimes."

Saizo just looked at him strangely, like he'd misheard. Instead of asking for clarification, though, he walked away, leaving Laslow to dry his eyes and try to gather up the broken shards of his dignity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was able to post this relatively quickly because most of it was already written before I even published the first chapter. The next update will take a bit; I need to finish up this semester of school, so that's my first priority.
> 
> Again, I'm glad that some of you have enjoyed reading this work. Every time I get an email alerting me that it's received kudos/comments, it makes my day. Look forward to more of these awkward idiots. Feel free to [follow me on tumblr, if you'd like.](http://twoturtlesinabathtub.tumblr.com/)


	3. Disinclined

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayyyy sorry for taking about a month to crank this mofo out, but my semester is now over, so huzzah!
> 
> Disinclined (adjective, pronounced as "dis-in-KLAHYND"): 1) Lacking desire or willingness. 2) Averse.

Saizo didn't attack him again after that fiasco of a compliment contest. Perhaps he no longer saw Laslow as a potential threat, considering that he'd broken down into tears right in front of him. 

That wasn't to say that he was friendly, by any means. As far as Laslow could tell, the Hoshidan retainer was acquaintance to some, friend to almost none. His bluntness coupled with a sharp tongue was appreciated by some members of the army, including Lord Corrin, but there were others who found it rude and distasteful. Really, Laslow didn't mind his brusqueness. Saizo could criticize his behavior all he wanted—Laslow _knew_  he was far from being the ideal retainer—so long as the Hoshidan didn't insult his dancing. That would definitely cross the line. And as far as he knew, the ninja was completely unaware of his true passion. 

 ...Wait. Laslow felt himself break into a cold sweat as he stood guard outside Prince Xander's chambers. Saizo was probably still spying on him. Shitshitshit. He'd surveilled Corrin for quite some time before deeming the dragon prince trustworthy, so it wasn't too outlandish to think that he'd be doing the same with Laslow.

 

And Laslow had been sneaking out to secluded areas in order to practice—a behavior that Saizo would surely view as suspicious. Desperately, he tried to control his breathing before his panic could turn into an actual panic _attack_.

When the door to his liege's chambers suddenly opened, Laslow let out an unholy shriek in surprise, leaping into the air like a frightened jackrabbit. Prince Xander didn't even seem fazed by the reaction, staring at his retainer as the poor man cleared his throat and composed himself. "Laslow," he said, "there's a matter of importance I wish to discuss with you." Something about his tone was foreboding as he opened the door wider.

Laslow swallowed hard. "Of, uh, of course, milord." He followed the prince and stood before his desk as Xander took his seat behind it. 

Prince Xander was always composed, the quintessence of proper etiquette. But as he sat at his desk and stared at Laslow, he seemed a bit _too_  calm. It was extroardinarily discomfiting, and Laslow couldn't help but fidget beneath his impassive gaze. When the prince at last spoke, his voice had taken on that low, dangerously cool tone of a disappointed parent. "Again?"

Laslow's stomach took a nosedive as he realized what Xander was referring to. "'Again' what, milord?"

The crease between Xander's eyebrows deepened, something Laslow had thought impossible. "You should know better than to feign ignorance with me. Why, exactly, am I once more receiving reports of your harassment of the townsfolk? What possesses you to engage in such shameless behavior?"

"I wasn't 'harrassing' anyone!" Laslow cried, holding up his hands in defense.

Xander's wine colored eyes narrowed ominously. "Really? Then why is it being said that you were badgering as many people as possible in the neighboring town a few days ago? There are so many reports that it's taken up until today for me to receive all of them."

"B-but it—it wasn't just _me_  doing it! That stinking ninj—"

"Enough!" said Xander firmly; he was clearly fighting the urge to yell at Laslow, gripping the edge of his desk so hard that the wood creaked. "I will not hear any more excuses or attempts to pin the blame on anyone else. The fact of the matter is that you've made the same blunder yet again. Not only does that make you look like a fool—it makes me seem one, as well, for allowing such a reckless philanderer to remain my retainer."

Honestly, Laslow couldn't really argue with that. The half-baked competition had been his idea, after all, and he hadn't even spared a thought to how his actions may have reflected onto his liege. He looked down at his well-worn boots, unable to look the prince in the eye.

He looked back up when Xander began to speak again. "I've discussed the situation with Prince Ryoma, and have asked for advice regarding how your embarrassing behavior may be remedied," he said. "He gave me a most generous offer, one that may be more effective than simply isolating you from society. Since neither reprimanding nor house arrest have had any lasting effect on you, it seems that a more direct approach is needed. Therefore, Prince Ryoma has volunteered one of his own retainers to act as a mentor of sorts to you."

No. Absolutely not. "Kagero?" Laslow croaked, hoping against hope.

Xander raised an eyebrow in a "surely you jest" gesture. "Do you really think me so foolish as to partner you with a woman? You are to meet Saizo at the main entrance in half an hour to assist in a supplies run. Do not be late." Xander looked back down at the parchment spread before him, his cue for Laslow to leave.

Laslow started to go, but only took a few steps before he turned back around. "I don't need this, you know," he protested weakly. "I'd rather not be passed around like some squalling infant." His whining wasn't exactly proving his point.

Xander's expression when he looked up was hard as a block of ice, leaving absolutely no room for argument. "Apparently, you do, since you seem incapable of following even the simplest tenets of common decency and good retainership. Now, report to Saizo. And _behave_  yourself."

Laslow considered revolting for a moment, but eventually decided that he'd rather keep his head on his shoulders. So he slouched from the room, dragging his feet as he went.

Oh, the injustice of the entire situation. Saizo should've just killed him when he'd had the chance.

 

.~.~.

 

Laslow couldn't help but get steamed up as he walked to the meeting spot. Just his luck. Of course the fucking _ninja_  didn't get caught—the Hoshidan could probably steal a horse pulling a cart without the driver even noticing. Stupid. Saizo was stupid.

He saw the ninja waiting for him at the mouth of the east entrance. As Laslow neared him, he saw that Saizo was grinning. Well, sure, he couldn't see the smile itself, but he was positive that it was there—it had something to do with the way his eyebrows were slightly lifted. And it probably wasn't even a smile, but a malicious smirk. Because Saizo was an asshole, of course.

"You don't have to look so damned pleased with yourself," said Laslow snippily when he reached the entrance. "I can't believe no one reported you! What did you even _do_  to charm those people?"

"That information is classified."

"You are literally the worst."

"Quit sulking," replied Saizo. "It was a stupid contest."

"I am _not_  sulking," said Laslow, sulkily, with a sulky expression on his face. "You're just a jerk."

"And you're a child who's been reduced to name-calling, you perfumed buffoon," said the ninja. He immediately turned and exited the astral castle, leading the horse pulling their provisions cart by the reigns.

Laslow gaped for a moment before rushing after him. "Wh—" Hypocrite! Ohh, Saizo made himself _so_  easy to hate. "You...you..." He scrambled to find an insult strong enough to convey his rage, but failed on a grand scale. "You _rude person_!"

Saizo couldn't have looked less impressed. "Go easy on me," he deadpanned.

The mercenary practically growled at him. "To quote some of the first words you ever said to me, 'I don't like you'."

Unexpectedly, Saizo let out the smallest, monosyllabic chuckle. "Fine with me," he said. Then his face returned to its typical stern expression as he turned to look at his unwilling companion. "So, how long do I have to put up with you?"

Laslow shrugged. "Lord Xander didn't give a specific time frame. Did Prince Ryoma not say?"

"No. He seemed...distracted when we last spoke."

"Distracted how?"

"He didn't say. I suspect it may have something to do with Scarlet's death."

"Ah." That would make sense—the high prince had been more distraught than most upon the discovery of her lifeless form, though he'd done his best to remain stoic. Considering how close they'd seemed, of course Prince Ryoma would still be grieving. "Sorry for prying." Saizo said nothing as they continued on their journey.

Eventually, as the town came into view, Laslow chuckled to himself. "What?" asked Saizo shortly. "Spit it out." 

"Oh, nothing. It's just ironic, that's all. Lord Xander believes that being under your watch will keep me away from unwanted social interaction; however—much as I hate to admit it—you destroyed me a few days ago in town, so who knows? Maybe being around you will mean even more social interaction for me."

The resentment in Saizo's expression made the hairs on the back of Laslow's neck stiffen. "If you make an ass of yourself, it will look like I have failed to complete the task assigned to me," he growled lowly. "And if that happens, I may have to do something drastic. To you."

Laslow blanched. "M-message received." He put some more space between himself and the Hoshidan as they began to make their way through the dusty streets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for this chapter being mostly transitional, but it's necessary in order to show why these two morons end up spending so much time together. Anyway, seeya in the next chapter, and [hit me up on tumblr](http://twoturtlesinabathtub.tumblr.com/), if you feel so inclined.


	4. Facilitate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're getting warmer, so hang on.
> 
> Facilitate (verb, pronounced as "fuh-SIL-i-teyt"): 1) To make easier or less difficult; help forward. 2) To assist the progress of (a person).

 

"W-what the hell...what _was_  that?" Laslow's knees gave out as he was trying to stagger towards his room. Odin grabbed one of the mercenary's arms and put it around his own neck, holding Laslow upright as he steered the two of them in the direction of the hot spring, instead.

Well, technically, Laslow wasn't a mercenary anymore, having received a promotion a few days ago: he was a "hero", now. Only time would tell if he would live up to the moniker—but judging by the fact that he was about to slump to the ground in a mixture of shock and nauseated exhaustion, the odds didn't seem to be in his favor. "Is this real life?" Eyes enormous, he looked up at Odin's face, the blond man's expression set in grim determination. "There's just one of me, right?"

"I hope so," grunted Odin, adjusting his grip around Laslow's wrist and waist. "There's no way I could support _two_  of you."

That battle had been absolute bedlam. Never in Laslow's life had he anticipated seeing an exact copy of himself materialize from nothing. It had worked independently from him, fought Vallites alongside the other replicas; but every time it was wounded, so was he, which was one of the creepiest things he'd ever experienced.

By the time the two were finally in the water, the steaming spring soothing their aching bodies, Odin had semi-recovered his theatrical flair. "We should consider ourselves fortunate that the conjuring of a second Chosen One did not rend the gossamery fabric of time and space," he declared. "Why, it took every corpuscle of the regal blood in my veins to keep the overflowing power of two Odins from imbalancing the cosmic scales!"

"Just give it a rest, I beg you," Laslow sighed, slumping down even further in the water as his head rested up on the edge. "I'm too tired."

"Well, so am I, but I have a reputation to maintain."

Laslow couldn't help the little snort that sometimes slipped into his laughter. "Thanks, buddy." They sat in comfortable silence for a few more minutes, but began to be joined in the spring by some of the other men. Damn, Laslow had been about to ask Odin if he'd noticed Saizo surveilling him.

He shifted into more of an upright sitting position when Kaze slipped into the water across from them. "Well met, master ninja," greeted Odin. "How fare you?"

Kaze smiled slightly. "I am well, thank you." He addressed both of them when he next said, "You were very impressive today, and I wanted to thank you for helping to protect Lord Corrin and myself."

"Thanks," Laslow said. "You weren't so bad, yourself."

"Thank you." Kaze looked down at the steam rising from the water. "However, now that I am able to wield katana, I cannot help feeling that my ability in battle is somewhat lacking. I am much more accustomed to landing blows from a distance."

Laslow made a face. "I know what you mean. I asked Arthur to help me work on using an axe just the other day, but as soon as he grasped the handle of his to show me a few things, it somehow...caught on fire. _And_  broke in half at the same time. It was really something." Odin, the lucky bastard, didn't have to worry about a new weapon class; the now-sorcerer had merely been granted access to older tomes than he had before, which contained even more powerful magic.

Kaze chuckled. "I wish you better luck in finding a new teacher. However, returning to my original point, I've noticed that you're a very talented swordsman. Have you considered helping to train any soldiers who are new to the weapon class? It would greatly benefit the army."

Teach? Be in front of people and assert that he knew what he was doing as they all _stared_ at him? "Uh..." He looked at Kaze's sincere expression and his conscience took over. Who could say no to that face? "I suppose I could. I'd be most comfortable starting at a one-on-one level, though."

"Wonderful," replied Kaze. "Perhaps you should begin with my brother, then—after all, the two of you have been interacting a lot lately."

_Not by choice_ , Laslow wished to say, but was worried that it might come off as offensive to Saizo's twin. So he instead said, "All right, I could ask him. Not sure how he'll respond, though."

Kaze's little smile returned. "Saizo is many things, but a fool isn't one of them. I am sure he will be grateful for your assistance."

Hm. Laslow would believe it when he saw it.

 

.~.~.

 

It had been a few weeks since Laslow had become Saizo's reluctant protogé and, thankfully, no major bumps had appeared in the road. They didn't spend all hours of the day together—each had their respective duties to perform as retainers to the crown princes, of course. Still, in a way, Laslow almost felt like Saizo was his babysitter. If Laslow ever had free time, he had to report to the ninja and assist him with any tasks that needed doing; these jobs ranged from making trips to town, to training together (though their relationship was gradually improving, Laslow couldn't quite shake the feeling that Saizo was two seconds away from trying to purposely maim him), to helping in the kitchens and fields.

It was during these times that Laslow began to notice certain things about the other man. For example, it soon became apparent that the ninja was incredibly resourceful. Once, when Felicia dropped some plates, Saizo requested that he be allowed to keep the broken shards, much to the clumsy maid's confusion.

"What could those possibly be used for?" Laslow asked with a furrowed brow.

"Shrapnel grenades," he muttered.

Another instance Laslow noted was when the two of them were helping with a small masonry project, building up the ballista tower near the southern entrance. The Nohrian saw that Saizo paid a little extra attention to the tools they were using, such as the trowels; he would heft one in his palm, grasp the handle, and make a quick thrusting motion, as if he were about to stab something. Or someone. It was a bit unsettling. Everything to him was a tool that, in a pinch, could be used as a weapon.

One of the more interesting incidents happened on a night when Laslow was in charge of guarding the food supply. Saizo approached him out of nowhere and requested a small amount of red pepper. And why would Laslow refuse? The loss was negligible. He had to ask why, though.

The ninja considered him for a moment, but eventually divulged his motive. A battle tactic he sometimes used, he explained, was to put a combination of dirt, iron filings, and red pepper into the area near the top of his katana's scabbard. Whenever he quickly drew his katana in combat, then, the mixture would fly into the enemy's eyes, incapacitating them for at least a few seconds to better ensure his landing a killing blow.

Laslow was impressed, and said as much. Saizo just replied, "All of this is second nature to me. I've been in training since childhood. Still..." The redhead crossed his arms and looked away from Laslow. "I've noticed my katana work improving lately."

Laslow did a poor job of suppressing a grin. "Is that a 'thank you', Saizo?"

"Take it however you want—it doesn't matter to me." Saizo looked up at him again, eye narrowed. "I can tell you're holding back whenever we train, though. Stop. It's condescending and helps no one, especially your newest trainees."

Wait, Saizo could tell? Damn, and he thought he'd been doing a good job of hiding it. "That isn't how I meant it. I just get nervous teaching, so I have to take it a bit easier in order to not get too anxious and mess everything up."

"Hmph. So that's why you look so stiff. It'll probably get easier as you keep teaching."

Laslow scratched the back of his neck. "Yeah, okay. Thanks, I guess."

"At least your trainees don't hate you," said Saizo. "I've been scolded by Kagero on more than one occasion for being far too hard on new recruits."

"Gee, I never would've guessed." Oops, that slipped out before Laslow's mental filter could kick in. And just when it almost seemed like Saizo was trying to ease his nerves.... But there was no way that that was what the ninja was actually doing. No way.

Saizo gave him a disapproving look, but said nothing. Before something else could make things even more awkward, Laslow heard his name being called. Peri was bouncing towards him, which likely meant that it was his turn to attend to Lord Xander. Laslow glanced back at the ninja. "I, uhh, I've gotta go. See you later. Yeah. Okay, bye." What in Naga's name was _that_? He jogged to meet up with Peri and tried to ignore how he tripped over a pebble at one point, feeling like a complete idiot.

 

.~.~.

 

Laslow was finally able to speak to Selena and Odin the next day. They were guarding a meeting room in which the Nohrian royal siblings were discussing the potential trade agreements they wanted to propose to Hoshido.

When he asked if they'd noticed any unusual activity around them, or felt like they were being watched, they responded in the negative.

Selena eyed him with a raised brow. "Are you sure you even know what you're talking about? I haven't seen that creep anywhere near me."

"Me neither," Odin interjected, "and believe me, one so attuned to any and all clandestine exertions would surely sense such a presence."

"That's the thing, though—it's hard to feel a ninja's presence," argued Laslow. "Sure, I'm getting better at sensing whenever he's nearby, but that's just because I've been around him so much."

"Well, maybe he's just stalking _you_ ," said Selena. "I mean, out of the three of us, you'd definitely be the easiest nut to crack."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Laslow asked, affronted.

"Gawds, are you really that oblivious? Odin acts like a total freak and, for some stupid reason, people say that I have a bad attitude. But only world-class morons would think that."

"Riiiight," muttered Odin as he and Laslow shared a look.

Selena continued, poking Laslow in the chest with her finger. "You, on the other hand, look and smell like a girl, and you hate confrontation. You're basically the least threatening-looking thing I've ever seen in my life, and that includes this one time when I saw a basket of kittens being carried by a little old lady. Out of the three of us, you're the easiest to intimidate and interrogate."

"Hey! I'll have you know that I am a tough, unmovable paragon of masculinity!"

Selena snorted. "Says the male dancer who smells like a bouquet of roses and blushes every thirty seconds. Oh, and cries. A _lot_."

"You are not winning any points with me today," Laslow mumbled.

"I'm just saying," she replied with a shrug. "Looks like he's your problem. But I swear, if you blab anything to him, I'll personally kick your ass so hard and so far that you'll fly up from the Bottomless Canyon and land back in Nohr. So don't screw this up."

Laslow huffed. "Thanks for the vote of confidence, Selena."

"Anytime."

 

.~.~.

 

The days were passing so quickly that it sent Laslow's head spinning.

For several months now, people had been getting married. Having _babies_. Since this astral plane worked on a completely different timeline from the world they knew, Lilith could take them to whatever time and place Lord Corrin asked her to. This meant that weeks in this castle would have no bearing on their battles in Valla; they could technically spend years here, but only minutes between their fights in the other world. 

Despite that, thought Laslow, in what way was it even remotely sane to start having children in the midst of a war? So odd. And it had been a sort of chain reaction, too: after the first couple got hitched, so did a slew of other people, as if they'd been waiting for a signal to indicate that _starting a family during an interdimensional war_  was a smart thing to do. These people....

As far as Laslow was concerned, he would do his damndest not to follow in their footsteps. He knew exactly what it was like to be born into war, and refused to force a child to share the same fate.

His musings were interrupted when Arthur gently poked him in the shoulder, rousing him from his dour thoughts. "What's troubling you, friend?" he asked, genuine concern in his voice.

Laslow shook his head a little to clear his mind, then hefted up the clunky axe leaning against the wall next to him. The training grounds were no place for getting lost in thought. Instantly, his grin was back on his face as he said, "Nothing important. Come on, let's do this!"

Arthur laughed heartily, clapping Laslow on the back before they began to go through a few footwork techniques to help increase momentum and fluidity whenever wielding an axe. Miraculously, the blond retainer only tripped four times, which was well below his average. He was a decent teacher if you overlooked the falling and near-constant mishaps, and Laslow wanted to stick with the devoted defender of justice.

As the two of them rehearsed and rehearsed, Laslow tried to silence those thoughts that were hovering like a black cloud above his head. He'd be fine without settling down, finding a wife, having children. He'd be just fine. He was fairly used to feeling alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for ending on an angsty note, but Laslow _is_ a self-proclaimed pessimist.
> 
> Looking up all of that ninja shit was pretty enjoyable. They made shrapnel grenades from stuff like pottery shards; and the Japanese word "kunai" basically means something along the line of "trowel", like for gardening and masonry. So cool! That katana trick was a real thing, too. Man, no wonder ninja are legendary. Another fun fact is that a ninja's clothing was often dyed a dark reddish/black to mask bloodstains, which is why I like how Saizo wears red. Woo.


	5. Correlation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd just like to say that I'm so happy that this rarepair is being well-received! This ship needs more love, haha. Thank you all so much for the kudos and comments!
> 
> Correlation (noun, pronounced as "kor-uh-LEY-shun"): 1. Mutual relation of two or more things, parts, etc. 2. Similarity, parallelism.

 

Laslow was in a bit of a sulk for the next few days. This always happened—he'd have a few negative thoughts and those would lead to dwelling on other things that made him feel even more depressed. It was a bad habit, and he'd been trying to break it for years, but to no avail.

This time, he kept thinking about home. About one person in particular, and how the situation between them had been hopeless from the start. Perhaps he really was destined to live out the rest of his life in solitude. After all, one of the reasons for his constant flirting was because of how he desperately _craved_  companionship, even beyond the bonds of friendship. Sure, Laslow had made many friends during his time in Nohr, and had made a couple more after the Hoshidan alliance, but he was a man of passion. Platonic affection was absolutely invaluable, and he would never take it for granted—but sometimes it just didn't cut it.

A long time ago, he'd realized that dancing was a very effective way for him to vent his frustrations. He hadn't been able to practice much recently, though, since he was always reporting to Saizo whenever his regular duties to Lord Xander were complete. He was so pent-up that he felt ready to burst.

Slipping from his room and out into the night, Laslow made for the west entrance. He was able to sneak past the guards sometimes—he'd always been incredibly light on his feet—but was spotted by Subaki this time. Trying to appear nonchalant, Laslow told Princess Sakura's retainer that he couldn't sleep and was just going for a walk to clear his head. He let Laslow pass, but not before suggesting that he bring a weapon along next time. Laslow thanked him for the advice and continued on his way.

There was a small clearing in a growth of trees where he'd gone to practice on more than one occasion. The moon was bright, nearly full, and when Laslow looked down at his arms, they were bathed in silver. After doing some warm-up stretches, he began. Still in a reminiscent mood, he decided to rehearse his mother's dance.

Laslow missed his parents so much. He missed his mother's bashful smiles and loving encouragements, his father's comical loquacity whenever he was trying to seem smooth and dashing. Reuniting with them and helping to save their realm had been the opportunity of a lifetime, and he'd been sad to leave them behind to help save this one. Ugh, he was such a bleeding heart.

Unconsciously, Laslow's movements became a bit slower, more melancholy, as he channeled his sadness into the dance. He imagined his mother dancing with him, holding on to that memory in an attempt to drown out how down he was feeling. It worked a little and, by the time he was finished practicing, he'd sweat through his shirt and was breathing heavily. He should've brought a towel or something.

As he was wiping his forehead with the back of his hand, he heard a small snapping sound from somewhere within the trees, like the breaking of a twig. He jumped, startled. It was probably just a squirrel or something, and Laslow rolled his eyes at his reaction. He could never escape his nerves, no matter what he did. Sighing, he did a few more stretches and then made his way back, feeling much better than before.

 

.~.~.

 

At this point, Laslow was almost looking forward to being with Saizo. The Hoshidan man didn't allow them to slack off, which made Laslow feel like a much more accomplished retainer and member of Lord Corrin's army. It was a nice confidence boost, which even led to him being a better teacher as he continued to train people. Lord Xander praised him for his contributions on several occasions, too, filling Laslow with pride.

And speaking of Saizo, the redhead's attitude was getting better as of late. There was much less glaring, no hostile threats, and, interestingly enough, he more often than not asked Laslow for assistance instead of giving him a straight order. He couldn't figure out why the ninja had made the turnaround, but he sure as hell wasn't going to complain about it.

Gradually, _gradually_ , Laslow began to enjoy Saizo's company for more than the benefits it provided in his work performance. Once you got past the rough exterior and saw him for what he really was, it was clear that his actions spoke far louder than his words.

Saizo was hardworking, of course, but he was proactive about it, too, constantly looking for ways to help other people in the army. He always made sure that he repaid favors, even going so far as gifting Princess Sakura sweets after she'd healed a particularly rough wound of his. That had been pretty cute. He was unfailingly loyal—not just to Prince Ryoma, but to the entire army, wholeheartedly committed to their cause. 

As evidenced by his attacking Laslow during one of their first encounters, however, Saizo was obviously prone to allowing his emotions to get the better of his self-control; he was significantly more reactionary than any of the other ninja Laslow had met. His devotion to protecting his liege had the tendency to bring out something almost _feral_ in him.

It would be unfair to expect someone to be perfect, Laslow knew, and he hoped no one expected that of himself. And just as he'd been improving in his work, maybe Saizo would one day mellow out a little. ...Well, he'd probably have to mellow out a lot. But nothing was impossible. Technically.

It was occasionally hearing Saizo being mentioned by other army members that further piqued Laslow's curiosity. There were little stories that showed that he had good intentions, but wasn't very good at being tactful. He tried to help Setsuna become a better retainer, urged Felicia to redirect her potential, and even confronted Rinkah about being so reckless on the battlefield.

He didn't just respect Saizo, despite his flaws—he _admired_  him. It felt odd, but as the weeks turned into months, Laslow felt this niggling sensation in the back of his mind that he'd known Saizo much longer than he actually had. It was confusing, since he was sure that he'd never had any previous interactions with the Hoshidan before their nations had allied together.

Soon enough, though, he realized that Saizo resembled one particular person from home. The similarity was something to think about, to say the least.

He sort of blurted out the connection he'd made when he was standing guard with Saizo one night. "You know, you remind me of someone," he said suddenly.

Saizo glanced over at Laslow's wistful expression. "Who?"

"Just...someone from my past, is all. You're a lot like him—he's reserved, and wears a mask, and is an absolute terror in battle. Believe it or not, I think he may actually tie with you for being the most blunt person in existence. I haven't seen him in years, now." Laslow could hear the bitterness in his voice.

"What's his name?"

"...Gerome," said Laslow quietly. Gerome, handsome and enigmatic. Gerome, who spurned women's advances left and right, spending time with Laslow instead, giving him hope that maybe, just maybe...

"Hmph. You must have been very close to him."

"In a way." Laslow sighed. "My father was, at one point, the liege of Gerome's mother. He and I spent a lot of time together when we were little, but after—" Painful memories with gnashing teeth reared before him, and Laslow winced. "Well, we drifted apart. But he's...wonderful."

Oh, damn. He hadn't meant to sound so—so— _enamored_. Blast it all to hell!

Saizo grunted. "So you must think that I'm wonderful, too."

Laslow gaped like a fish. "Th-that's not what I meant! Don't take it so literally!" But then, he could tell by Saizo's lifted eyebrows that he was smiling beneath his mask. "...You're making fun of me," he accused dourly.

"It's not even a challenge."

"Oh, shut up." It was funny—just a few months ago, Laslow wouldn't have dared to speak so casually to the ninja; now, it just felt natural. Saizo just let out a little snort in response.

"The way you speak of him..." Saizo mused, "it sounds to me like you view him differently from other people you know."

Though Laslow knew his face must be a strong shade of crimson, he still found himself muttering, "Y-yeah. Yeah, you could say that." 

He could feel the ninja's stare boring into him, but couldn't make himself return the gaze. Heartbeat thundering in his ears, Laslow braced himself for the judgment, the derision that he'd received before. "Huh. Didn't know that about you," Saizo said simply. "Not that I've ever wondered."

Laslow was shocked. Despite Saizo being a decent person deep down, he still hadn't expected such an impartial reaction. "It's not usually something that comes up in everyday conversation," he managed to say, looking over at Saizo with a shaky little smile.

"It is a bit surprising, though." Saizo looked over at Laslow with a raised eyebrow. "Judging by your philandering, you're clearly interested in women."

"Believe me, you can be interested in both." Laslow tried to sound less defensive and more like he was just stating a fact.

"Hm."

"What's wrong? You don't believe me?"

"I didn't say that." Saizo's expression looked thoughtful. "Who else knows this about you?"

"Well..." Laslow scratched his cheek. "Odin and Selena have known for quite some time. And Niles pulled it out of me, weirdly enough—he's really perceptive about that sort of thing. It's probably because he and I are sort of similar in that regard, so he understands what it's like. In fact, I'm almost convinced he's got his sights set on Lord Corrin. It's actually a bit comforting to know that I'm not alone in all of this." Why was he telling Saizo these things? He had no guarantee that the man would keep these secrets. The entire situation was surreal.

"I just never would've guessed you were interested in others, as well. You only ever approach women."

"Well, of _course_ I've only ever flirted with women!" Laslow cried, throwing up his hands. "I'm terrified at the prospect of flirting with men! How the hell does one go about approaching another man? What does one _do_  in that situation? It's not like I could stroll up to the local blacksmith and say, 'Hey there, handsome, how would you like to hammer something else for a change tonight?' He may very well murder me! I mean, if you've got any ideas about how to flirt with men, I'd love to hear them."

Saizo spluttered. "Of course I don't, you fool."

Laslow peered at him, eyes narrowed. "You're taking this surprisingly well."

"What?"

"What I just told you about myself." Laslow folded his arms, leaning against the wall behind them. "I just always thought that the social culture in Hoshido was much more conservative than it is in Nohr. That's what I've heard, at least."

Saizo paused, folding his arms in a mirror of Laslow. "You shouldn't listen to gossip. Several regions in Hoshido are becoming more progressive."

"It's just that you seem so traditional, that's all. Your culture is very concerned with genealogy and maintaining strong bloodlines."

"I am well aware of that." Saizo shifted his weight from one foot to the other, looking over at the soft glow emanating from the lanterns inside the castle.

Laslow couldn't understand why Saizo seemed to tense up a little. "What's wrong?" he asked. The ninja didn't respond. "Have I offended you in some way?"

"No."

"Then what..." Laslow went over in his head what he'd last said. "Do you, er, have some kind of objection to continuing the Saizo line?"

"Never." He turned to glare at Laslow in resentment. "Aside from serving Lord Ryoma, loyalty to my clan is my life's calling."

"Oh. All right." Not some sort of ethical issue, then. What Laslow said next very likely crossed a line, but it was out before his brain could catch up. That happened an awful lot. "So everything is okay...down there? You know, physically?"

"..."

Laslow chanced a glance over at the ninja to see that his glower had intensified. "Too far?"

"You're lucky that I know you aren't mocking me," Saizo growled.

"Of course I'm not. I'd just like to try to understand, if I can." There was a pause as they stood facing away from the castle. Laslow wondered if Saizo was just as distracted by the conversation as he was; he was making for a poor watchman. "You can talk to me whenever you want, you know," he said quietly.

"There's nothing to talk about."

Laslow clicked his tongue. "I don't believe that for a second. You're looking even grumpier than usual, which I'd always thought was impossible."

"Perhaps it's because I don't take kindly to your clumsy attempts to pry into my personal life."

"Oh, gods, like you're one to talk."

"I'm not clumsy. Never have been."

"Jeez, that's not what I was referring to, and you know it." Once more, Laslow was struck by Saizo's capacity for sarcasm. Dry as a Plegian desert. "And I'm not trying to 'pry'—we're friends." They _were_ friends.

Weren't they?

Saizo didn't say anything, and Laslow's anxiety ratcheted up a couple hundred notches. Silence hung between them, the air syrupy with tension. Finally, Saizo grumbled, "Fine. I'll keep that in mind."

Laslow grinned, incongruously pleased. "Good." The air loosened up as they leaned against the outer wall, and Laslow could breathe again.

"...Thanks." The ninja's voice was quiet enough that Laslow's ears had to strain to hear him. He felt strangely warm when he did.

 

.~.~.

 

When they were relieved by Rinkah and Benny coming to replace them on the night watch a couple of hours later, Laslow bid goodnight to Saizo, who responded with a little nod. The Nohrian tossed and turned in bed that night, dreaming fitfully of taciturn, mask wearing warriors whose faces and bodies kept switching.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is why Saizo/Laslow is a great ship: _Saizo is basically the Fates equivalent of Gerome._ He just wears a mask on a different part of his face.
> 
> Also, yay for bisexual Laslow and pansexual Niles! And just to be clear, I'm indicating that Laslow's father is Virion; Gerome's dad can be whoever your heart desires lol.


	6. Disquieting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disquieting (adjective, pronounced as "dis-KWAHY-i-ting"): 1) Causing anxiety or uneasiness. 2) Disturbing.

"No. Try again."

"Hmph. Fine."

"What...no, stabbing _harder_ doesn't make for a better technique. Again."

"I don't like this," Saizo grumbled.

"That's tragic," said Laslow sarcastically. "Try it again. You're aiming for _smooth_ , not sharp. And stop holding your sword like it's a shuriken!" He reached over and fixed Saizo's grip on the practice sword's hilt, so that the ninja was holding it the way he held his own. "Your sword is an extension of your arm, not just a stabbing stick."

"I'm good at stabbing things."

"You don't have to tell me twice. Now, what's the point of using shuriken in battle?"

Saizo looked at him in confusion. "To sap an enemy's strength from a distance until you can get close enough for the kill."

"Exactly. That's what I'm trying to show you!" Laslow exclaimed. "If you're up in the enemy's face, trying to just drive a sword through them, it gives them plenty of reaction time to get in some really hard hits. You need to be quick about it. Watch me."

Saizo watched as Laslow took a few rapid steps forward, slashing the training dummy with his sword in a downwards diagonal motion with such speed that he may as well have been wielding a feather. He jumped back as soon as the blow landed, out of the imaginary range of the poor burlap-and-straw assailant.

"This technique is about having a longer reach with your sword, getting in some smaller hits without getting too close to them. That way, your enemy is slowed by their wounds, allowing you to go in for an easier kill. It's basically the same concept as using a shuriken."

"...All right, I guess I see your point," Saizo relented. "But what about fighters like Prince Xander? He essentially charges people and rams right through them."

Laslow raised an eyebrow at Saizo, hand on his hip. "When you acquire a divine weapon that can kill people from both short _and_ long range, then sure, feel free to ignore my advice. And I'm not saying to keep your distance the entire time—you still have to get up close to land deadlier blows. Just try to temper them with safer ones, that's all I'm trying to say."

Saizo nodded. "I'll consider it."

"Good!" Laslow smiled brightly. "Well, that's enough for today. Come on, I think lunch is going to be ready in a few minutes." He and Saizo went over to the side of the training grounds, storing their practice swords and wiping away their sweat with a couple of towels. Just as Saizo was moving past him to leave, Laslow noticed that there was a piece of straw stuck to the side of the ninja's shirt, likely from the training dummy. He reached to pluck it off absentmindedly. "Oh, hey, you've got some—"

Laslow's fingers barely brushed against Saizo's side, but the reaction he got was unexpected, to say the least. The ninja let out a panicked, involuntary noise that was somewhere between a wheeze and a snort, and his eyes shot open wide. He leaped back from Laslow. "Don't touch me!" he barked.

Laslow ignored him. "Was that...?" His eyes lit up after a moment. "Don't tell me: you're _ticklish_?"

"Of course not!" Saizo's bright red face betrayed him.

Laslow grinned manically. Oh, this was just _too_ precious. "And now you're blushing!"

"I will murder you and make it look like an accident," Saizo threatened.

"You're an awful liar whenever you're flustered, you know." He really was kind of cute whenever he was embarrassed, Laslow thought. All bark, no bite, blushing like a maiden. How was this lethal human weapon so charming?

"Fine. You alone know my one weakness—and I know one of yours."

"What? What weakness?" Laslow couldn't remember mentioning any. Saizo began to stare at him unwaveringly, eye appraising. The longer he did, the more uncomfortable Laslow got. He felt a flush creeping up the back of his neck as he fought to appear unaffected.

Eventually, it proved to be too much. "S-stop it! Stop staring at me!" he demanded, the blush infusing his cheeks as he glared.

"What's the matter? Am I embarrassing you?" the ninja taunted.

Saizo was teasing him. _Saizo_. Laslow's brain couldn't wrap around the absurdity of the situation. What had happened over the time they'd known each other? The Hoshidan man had gone from a grump with a stick up his ass to a sarcastic, clever man who sometimes bantered with Laslow like they were actual pals. Just imagine! "How'd you figure it out? What tipped you off?" Laslow asked.

Saizo gave him a little shrug. "Everything about you—your face is an open book. You're shy, easily embarrassed, and afraid of being judged. In other words, you're horrible at masking your emotions."

Laslow harrumphed. "Thanks for the kind words. Jerk."

"Dandy."

"Grump."

"Crybaby."

"Hey, watch it," said Laslow, eyes glinting mischievously. "You shouldn't toy with someone who knows your supposed 'one' weakness."

Saizo quirked an eyebrow. "Is that a threat?"

Laslow couldn't tell whether he was asking in earnest or was just being sarcastic again. "I suppose it depends on whether or not you keep teasing me."

Saizo hummed. "We'll see." With that, he left the grounds. Laslow smirked at his retreating form. Flustering Saizo was actually pretty fun.

Halfway to the mess hall, it finally registered to Laslow that he'd thought Saizo's reaction had been "cute". Upon realizing it, his eye started twitching uncontrollably and he accidentally walked into a wall.

 

.~.~.

 

Time had been passing quickly for several months, but recently, Laslow had felt that it was slowing to a crawl. Each minute dragged impossibly on as he worked, trained, and helped out around the castle—and all of it was done with Saizo. Considering how well of a job Laslow had been doing over the last while, it was unlikely that the two of them were supposed to even work together anymore. They just...did it anyway. But you know what they say about old habits.

Something was happening to Laslow, getting worse by the day, and it was having a strange effect on his lungs and heartbeat. When he'd first made the connection between Saizo and Gerome, it had only been a quick once-over, a comparison of their immediate looks and attitudes. It had never occurred to him that Saizo might be—dare he even think it?— _at—attra_ —

No, he couldn't even think it. This was a war, dammit! He did _not_ have time for this, whatever it was.

Laslow was a good man. He was helpful, honest, humble, and gave his all in whatever he did. So why was this happening to him? Had a dark mage cursed him at some point and then vanished into the ether? Not only did he not have time for this, but he didn't deserve this. He didn't deserve to go through this stupid, unnecessarily painful process all over again. Emotions were assholes, and that's all that there was to it.

His only refuge at that point was strict denial. He didn't feel this way—which was good, since there wasn't a chance in hell that his feelings (not that they existed, of course) would ever be returned. It would be best to just stop thinking about it, or else history would be doomed to repeat itself.

Although dancing had always helped Laslow to work through his frustrations, he couldn't sneak out and practice. No, this was _daytime_ and Laslow was _pissed off_ and the last thing he wanted to do was keep on thinking. So, he did what any normal, well-adjusted, emotionally stable person would do: he went to fetch his axe.

 

.~.~.

 

By the time Laslow had finished beating the literal stuffing out of a training dummy, he was exhausted, drenched in sweat, and wanted nothing more than to take a good bath and then fall into bed. Leaving the training grounds, he began to trudge over to the hot spring. His axe practice had helped, but only to an extent. He hadn't been able to sublimate his worries, and was at a loss as to what he could do to keep him from constantly thinking about—

Well, speak of the devil. Laslow's path had taken him behind a tree, the spring just ahead of him. As he saw the rear door to the building open, he froze.

Saizo was leaving the hot spring with his back facing Laslow. In the fading light, and from where he was unintentionally concealed, the Nohrian could make out that he wasn't wearing his scarf or the long black shirt that went underneath his outer red one, so his neck and arms were bare. It was weird, seeing him without armor and in simple shirt, trousers, and shoes—almost like he was normal. Saizo turned in Laslow's direction, walking towards the barracks. He wasn't wearing his mask, either.

Laslow stared, blinking owlishly as he felt an all-too-familiar flush creep into his cheeks. It was the first time he'd ever seen Saizo's face in its entirety—hell, the Hoshidan didn't even eat in the mess hall, since he'd have to remove the mask in order to eat. Looking at him now, though, it became all the more apparent how attractive the ninja was. Even whenever Saizo wore his mask, Laslow was still able to make out a few features: a straight nose, sharp cheekbones, a strong jaw. Now, with it off, Saizo's handsomeness was just as apparent as that of his twin—except moreso to Laslow, since seeing his entire face was such a rarity. The scar over his blind eye in no way detracted from the man's face, instead lending it a unique ruggedness. Laslow averted his gaze in embarrassment as he'd caught himself staring at Saizo's mouth, complete with perfect Cupid's bow and full lower lip. Damn it all. Unfair. The universe was _so_ unfair.

Unfortunately, Saizo had caught his ogling while he was lost in thought. Laslow jumped when the ninja suddenly stood before him, crowding his personal space. Good Naga, he was closer than usual and all...gorgeous, and...steamy from the baths, and, and...radiating heat. Despite Saizo's now irritated expression, he was still quite the looker. Was Laslow staring at his mouth? It felt like he was....

"Spying on me?" The ninja's low voice was thunder; Laslow swallowed, overwhelmed. "That's a bold move, trying to reverse our roles."

"N-no, it's not anything like that!" he cried. "I was on my way for a bath and just happened to see you." Then he processed the last thing Saizo had said. "Wait—are you _still_ watching me?"

Saizo ignored the question. "Why were you hiding behind a tree?" He snorted in derision. "Espionage is not the life for you—take it from someone who knows."

"Charming." Play it cool, Laslow. Pretend that you weren't caught staring at the ninja's various assets.

"Why are you gawking at me like a moron? What's wrong with you?"

"I just said that I _wasn't_ , damn you! I have better things to do!"

Saizo's frown deepened. "Keep it up, and I'll return the favor. And we both know how much you enjoy being stared at."

Laslow tried to downplay his embarrassment, but he ended up making things even more awkward, as usual. "Now it feels like you're looking for excuses to do just that," he joked nervously.

Saizo's annoyance disappeared at his words, and he looked a little stunned. His face was so much more expressive whenever it was uncovered, and Laslow couldn't tear his eyes away from the other man, who stared right back at him, brow furrowed. "You said that you have better things to do," Saizo said evenly. "So go do them."

He walked past Laslow and accidentally bumped their shoulders together in his haste. It wasn't rough, but Laslow felt like it had left him reeling. He turned to look at the ninja until he was out of sight, unable to keep his eyes from roving over all of Saizo's exposed skin as he began to chew his bottom lip to shreds.

Laslow was so fucked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That thing about Saizo being super ticklish? _It's 100% canon._
> 
> Here's the part where I apologize: my next college semester is starting in just a few days, so my schedule will be shot to hell. However! I'm an English major, so, like, I'll do my best to write and update in as timely a manner as possible. Love y'all.


	7. Crestfallen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> School’s keeping me nice and busy, but I promise that I’ll never abandon this baby. If you’ve stayed with this, then I thank you from the bottom of my heart!
> 
> Crestfallen (adjective, pronounced as “KREST-faw-luhn”): 1) Dejected. 2) Discouraged.

"Don't freak out or anything," Odin prefaced as he and Laslow sat across from one another in the mess hall.

Laslow looked at him in horror. "Why would you _say_ something like that? Now I'm definitely going to freak out!"

"It's not that big of a deal, I promise, so just calm down."

"It clearly is a big deal—you're speaking normally, which isn't normal for _you_."

"Well..." Odin scratched his head as his eyes darted from side to side. "Niles has started asking me questions lately." Laslow's brows drew down in confusion. "Questions about you and Saizo." Laslow's expression started to look scared. "And not the innocent kind." The blood drained from Laslow's face so rapidly that Odin was worried for a moment that his friend might faint.

Laslow made some sort of _hhhnnnghhh_ noise as he stared at his plate unseeingly. "What? How...how could he..." Ugh, damn himself and double-damn that silver tongued rogue. The former outlaw could probably sense a salacious thought from ten leagues away.

"I told him that I had no idea what he was talking about," said Odin, looking at his friend in concern. "I mean, you haven't told me anything. _Is_ something going on between you and Saizo?"

Laslow face-palmed. "I just figured it out myself! How in Naga's name would that sneaky sex pirate know about this?"

"What are you talking about?"

"I—and it kills me to even consider it, but I think—"

"You think what?" Selena's piercing voice came from behind Laslow and made him jump. "What are you two gossiping about now?" she asked as she sat down to Laslow's right. "Is it about me? I bet it's about me."

Odin laughed loudly. "Worry not, my persnickety pal! Laslow was merely embarrassed to admit that he admires my innate hypermagicality."

"That's not even a word."

"Is so!" Odin frowned at the redhead.

"Whatever. So hey, I was going to ask if one of you wanted to go shopping with me during our free day tomorrow."

"Well, um..." Laslow started as Odin said, "Actually, I..." and they both made up ridiculous excuses; Odin said that Princess Elise had roped him into playing tag, and Laslow said that he had a date in town.

Selena looked at them suspiciously, as though she could see through their bald-faced lies. "Hmph, fine. I'll just find someone else to carry all of my stuff."

The two men finished eating a few minutes later, then Odin suggested that they go for a quick walk around the castle's borders. Laslow was able to take the hint.

Before Laslow knew it, he was spilling his guts to his friend. Well, he was _trying_ to, but couldn't figure out how to articulate his thoughts; he ended up sounding more or less like a toddler who couldn't quite communicate what it was that he wanted. "It's just—it started out like...but lately, it's been sort of—" he stuttered, his hands moving about as he spoke.

Odin squinted at him. "So you like him."

Laslow stared at his friend, slack-jawed. "How could you possibly have understood what I was trying to say?"

"Remember when I told you that you suck at being subtle?"

"I hate you."

Odin grinned. "So, what are you going to do about it?"

Laslow looked at his friend in perplexity. "Do about what?"

"About Saizo, stupid. Do you think he might like you back?"

Laslow huffed. "Trust me, there’s no way. For one thing, I don’t even know if he even sees me as his _friend_ yet. I’m pretty sure that once we hit the “allies” level, everything ground to a halt. And anyway, even if he impossibly did have feelings for me, nothing would come of them. He's far too rigid about tradition and honor and all that. Saizo is going to find some woman, and get married, and have little homicidal ninja babies."

Odin suddenly darted in front of Laslow, blocking his path. Laslow came to a halt before he could run into him. "Unacceptable!" the sorcerer exclaimed.

"What the hell's wrong with you?" demanded Laslow, startled.

Odin adopted a heroic pose, hands on his hips as he stared at Laslow haughtily. "As your best friend, I refuse to allow you to accept defeat before you even try to woo your beloved."

" _Shut up_!" Laslow frantically tried to shove a hand over Odin's mouth, but Odin was easily able to fend him off.

"I cannot! I am the wolf who howls for justice! The eagle who cries for love!" Odin's voice was rising in volume as they grappled, and Laslow felt like he wanted to crawl under a rock and die. People were going to overhear them. And then that would kill him.

"Gods—just— _fine_!” Laslow hissed, hoping that it would make Odin finally shut up. It worked; the sorcerer pulled back, eyes alight in his triumph. “I’ll...I’ll figure something out. But where do I start? I dunno how to find out whether or not he’s interested in anyone, let alone other, uh, you know....”

“Understood. I hereby make a solemn oath to assist you in your quest.”

“Please, no. Just stay out of this.”

“Ha! The hounds of complacency may nip at my heels, but never shall they overtake Odin Dark!” he said. “Try as you might to keep me away, failure will thwart your efforts. I will find a way to help you fall into love’s tender embrace, or may Naga in all her glory strike me down!”

Laslow frowned. “I don’t need your help. I’m sure that I can be smooth enough to pull this off on my own.”

Odin went on as if he hadn’t heard him. "Weep no more, Laslow of the Azure Skies! Your hero will lift your weak and wearied heart from the chasm of despair!"

"I'm not even crying."

Odin just gave him a look. “Oh, and one more thing: I’m pretty sure that we should actually stick to the excuses we gave Selena, just in case she starts sniffing around. The last thing we need is her stabbing us to death.”

That meant that Laslow would have to find a date. Goodness, he’d had no idea of the hole he had dug for himself. “A date. Right. Well, I’ll just take a quick jaunt into town during my off-time tomorrow and find some lovely lass to pass the time with.”

“Good luck, friend—you’ll need it.”

Laslow snorted at Odin’s parting words as they went their separate ways. A date. He should feel a lot more excited about the prospect, but a dull apathy took its place. Perhaps his attitude would change once he actually got into town.

 

.~.~.

 

Unbelievable. Utterly unbelievable. One of the extremely rare times he manages to enjoy the company of a woman, he fucks it up!

Well, okay, maybe his fucking up in that regard wasn't completely unbelievable, considering that it had happened almost every time up until now. Still, the thought was depressing. This was all Saizo's fault, Laslow asserted to himself as he trudged from town back to the castle. _Everything_ was Saizo's fault: his restless sleep, his erratic emotions, his inability to concentrate, the lightheadedness from all of his blood racing into his face whenever he blushed.... He needn't go on. Something had to be done about this. The problem was that he hadn't a clue what that "something" could be.

It finally came to him how he could casually keep his promise to Odin about speaking with Saizo. During the last battle that Lord Corrin’s army had faced a few days ago, Laslow noticed that there were several married couples who were fighting side-by-side. It was fairly common, now.

Come to think of it, nearly everyone he knew was now married, some of them having children while they were at it. The few who remained, including Odin and Selena, were showing interest in people. Odin was spending more and more time with Princess Elise, and Selena in turn was constantly focusing on some intense and almost weirdly flirtatious competition with Subaki; Laslow shuddered at the thought, wondering how so much perfectionism that bordered on the neurotic could coexist without blowing up the realm.

Aside from a few other people, there really weren’t many who were still single. Of course, that included Saizo and himself. Himself and Saizo.

The two retainers often continued to work together, assigned or not, and Laslow sometimes wondered if someone was doing this to them intentionally. Well, whoever they were, he didn’t know whether to thank them or curse them. On one hand, spending so much time around the Hoshidan was nice. But on the other, being with the ninja was hell. He was _so close_ —and he couldn’t touch him, couldn’t say what he felt, could barely look him in the eye. If Saizo had noticed his strange behavior, though, he’d failed to comment on it. Still, Laslow was terrified that Saizo would question him, maybe even accuse him, and he’d be found out.

So, whenever they were together, Laslow’s thoughts frantically flashed from hoping that he wouldn’t blush, to wondering how much Saizo would hate him if he ever found out how Laslow felt, to trying not to stare at him too noticeably, to fantasizing about Saizo doing things to him that would make a prostitute blush. But the ginger menace was making things more and more difficult by being so much nicer to him. It was just awful.

Laslow’s thoughts were glum as he stewed about the shitstorm that was his emotional state. He and Saizo (what a surprise) had patrolled around the outside of the castle and then taken up their stations at the eastern gate. Unfortunately for him, Saizo sensed that he was distressed. Maybe Odin was right about his inability to be subtle....

“You’re bothered by something,” said Saizo.

“Mm.” Laslow was barely paying attention, too inside his own head.

“You’re bothered by a lot of things. I can tell.”

“What are you talking about?” Laslow looked at him, bewildered. That’d come out of nowhere.

“You smile too much,” Saizo said plainly. “More often than not, it means that a person’s trying to cover something up. What are you hiding?”

“That’s an overgeneralization,” Laslow countered. “And anyway, I’ve nothing to hide.”

“That’s what people who have something to hide say.”

Now Laslow was just getting miffed at how perceptive the ninja could be. “Knock it off.”

“Only if you tell me why you’re making that face.”

“What face?”

Saizo lifted his hand and tapped a finger against the crease that had appeared between Laslow’s scrunched eyebrows. “That face. You look like your master.”

Saizo had touched him. Casually. Laslow was in torment. “What’s it to you, anyway? Why does it matter?”

Saizo gave a little shrug. “You’ve seen me without my mask. It would only be fair if I were to see you without yours.”

Laslow had no idea how to respond to that. A few seconds later, it occurred to him how he could redirect the conversation. “Oh, I’m just a bit frustrated,” he replied. “In spite of my best efforts, I’m one of the few single people left. It’s a little disheartening.” He chuckled.

Saizo’s brow was now the one that was furrowed. “So that’s what it is.”

“Yeah. Although, now that I think of it—” Smooth, Laslow. Be smooth. “You’re one of the few people who’s in the same boat, huh?”

“It would appear so.”

Laslow looked out into the dark beyond the castle walls. “Frankly, I’m astonished that you haven’t been snatched up yet. You’re a fantastic retainer, smart, hardworking, handsome...” He was worried that he was laying it on too thickly, but he couldn’t help himself.

For some reason, Laslow’s words seemed to put Saizo on edge a bit. “I’m not one of the skirts you chase—reserve your flattery for your trips to the taverns. Besides, I could ask you the same question.”

The dirt covering the toes of Laslow’s boots was suddenly very fascinating to him as he looked down at his feet. “Oh, you know me,” he said with a stiff laugh, “a wild stallion cannot easily be corralled. Might as well chase while the chasing’s good, right?”

“Hmph.” If there were a _noise_ that could indicate that somebody was rolling their eyes, then it would sound exactly like Saizo’s grunt.

“Seriously, though—isn’t there anyone who’s caught your attention?” the Nohrian asked.

Saizo’s eye flashed over to him for less than a second, and Laslow got the feeling that the ninja was more annoyed than he’d originally thought. “I don’t see how that’s any of your business,” he retorted.

“Wait. I remember you seeming a bit off when we talked awhile back about you continuing your bloodline,” Laslow recalled. “Has it got anything to do with this?”

“...”

Laslow felt that he was pushing against Saizo’s boundaries, but he just couldn’t stop himself. “When are you going to find someone nice to spend your life with?”

"I will provide an heir and continue the clan’s legacy." The Hoshidan’s response was instant and sounded almost automatic, rehearsed.

Laslow's brows knit together. "That doesn't really answer the question."

"I don't know what you want to hear, nor do I care."

"But—"

" _Enough_ ," the ninja snarled. "This idle talk is pointless." Saizo was clearly agitated, but it looked different from his normal ire. It was like he'd been shaken, upset that he'd lost his footing and become unsteady. This wasn't anger—it was _frustration_. "I'll discuss this no further, least of all with you." He walked right past Laslow back in the direction of the castle.

"W-wait!" Laslow called. "Where are you going?"

Saizo didn't look back. "Kagero will be here shortly to take my place."

Laslow’s pulse was pounding in his ears as he watched Saizo hurry away from him. He knew it. He knew from the start, from when he’d spoken to Odin of his predicament, that he was not, in fact, skilled enough to navigate this situation smoothly. Now Saizo was really angry. But why? What had Laslow done?

A small voice in Laslow’s head hissed at him, telling him that maybe Saizo _knew_ , knew that Laslow was mooning after him. Obviously, the redhead could never view Laslow as being attractive—he was too emotional, too scatterbrained, too much of an _embarrassment_ to his lord, this army, and, most prominently, to himself. Laslow had been an idiot for even considering that Saizo would think him worth his time, that nasty voice whispered. Laslow raked a hand through his hair, his eyes starting to go misty as he failed to silence those thoughts. This was hopeless. He was helpless.

And he couldn’t for the life of him figure out what to do next.

 


	8. Discomposure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the only chapter that isn’t in third person limited perspective from Laslow’s point of view. It’s Saizo’s turn. This chapter is also why I used the “internalized homophobia” tag. And I swear, this is as angsty as the story will get.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Discomposure (noun, pronounced as “dis-kuhm-POH-zher”): 1) The state of being agitated. 2) Disorder.

He was sunlight. Just...sickeningly bright.

Those beaming, pesky smiles. Distracting.

That laugh. Warm, airy. It made something tighten in Saizo's chest, a strange and uncomfortable sensation. And, like most people, he did not react well to such a level of discomfort.

So he sniped at him. Kept his words to a minimum. Refused to stare at his deep brown eyes and soft looking skin and lithe but deadly frame. He did everything to try to keep him away. But the Nohrian was poison, sinking into his skin, sapping his strength day by day.

Kagero _knew_. He knew she did when her eyes had darted between him and Laslow as they’d walked past her one day. It had taken her less than a second, and Saizo had been humiliated. He'd always prided himself on being discreet.

She had listened calmly when he'd choked out his secret to her, all those years ago. What he was. He'd _cried_. Pathetic. She'd never begrudged him for trying to make something work between them, regardless. A fellow ninja could understand the weight on his back, the burden threatening to crush him at any moment.

It was already crushing him, hunching his shoulders, bending his spine. He was just so _angry_ , angry over his unnatural urges, his inadequacies, his weaknesses. What would his father have thought if he’d known? Fortunately, anger was easily channeled. Hell, he was the perfect example of what prolonged sublimation via anger does to a person.

Kotaro was dead. His father had been avenged—Saizo had felt it the moment that his shuriken had sunk into the filthy Mokushujin’s throat. It should’ve made him feel...lighter, he’d supposed. He should’ve known better. The burden remained, just as heavy as before. Suddenly, after all of these years, he hadn’t known where to direct his feelings. He'd been so obsessed with payback, hellbent on hating, for so long. What was he supposed to think of in its stead?

And then _he’d_ come along. With his cheeky grins and blushing embarrassment and amiable cheer. Damn him. Distracting. Saizo had been able to restrain himself, keep his thoughts in check as he’d surveilled the man and assured himself that he was not a danger to Hoshido.

As it turned out, he was really only a danger to Saizo.

Everything had been turned on its head that late night when Laslow had sneaked out of the castle. Saizo had followed, of course—it was his job.

When he’d silently made his way to the edge of that clearing in the growth of trees, concealing himself behind a thick growth of scrub, he’d sorely wished that he’d stayed in his room.

And he saw that Laslow was moonlight.

He’d curved, turned, spun, his every movement and gesture ethereal in the stillness of the clearing. Saizo had hardly dared blink, lest he shatter the illusion and crash land back into cold reality. Was the man even _human_?

He’d nearly forgotten about the war as he’d watched Laslow move. He’d forgotten about his suspicion, his prejudice. He’d forgotten that he needed to be absolutely silent, too, and ended up accidentally snapping a twig beneath his foot. Saizo had frozen and even stopped breathing when Laslow had jumped and looked over in his direction, his eyes scanning the trees but seeing nothing. He’d gone back to dancing, and Saizo had forced himself to leave. To hurry back to the castle so that he couldn’t do something even more moronic. Besides, Laslow's dance had seemed too...intimate, in a way. It hadn't deserved to be intruded upon.

When he'd crept back to his room and was undressing for sleep, he’d noted with a grimace that the adrenaline coursing through his body was making it impossible for him to sleep. That did not bode well.

He didn’t surveil the Nohrian again after that night.

But even though he’d ceased observing Laslow, he still allowed himself to _look_. It was a horrible decision.

The Nohrian was shy. Painfully so. Cried at the drop of a hat. Was prone to panicking—except whenever he was on the battlefield. No, on the battlefield, he was eerily calm. Too accustomed to battle, as if he’d been fighting all his life. Like Saizo. He should’ve been focusing more on unearthing the other retainer’s origins.

But Laslow was too distracting.

The dancer slowly began to be friendlier to him. Smiled more. Laughed more. Complimented Saizo, even. It made Saizo feel worse and worse and worse. He was sinking. _Despair_. Quicksand. Dragging him down, waiting to swallow him up and suffocate him. A better fate than the one he faced, perhaps.

It was as if the Nohrian was intent on becoming his own personal hell. He asked all of the wrong questions. Told him that Saizo could talk to him about anything. Heh. Sure. As if he could talk to Laslow about how he wanted to hate him but couldn’t. About how he had to force himself to look away from Laslow’s eyes in order to think straight. About how envious he was of this man Laslow had adored, this Gerome.

And then that fucking conversation. Laslow had shown Saizo his swordsmanship techniques in a way he hadn’t expected, those questions nicking him here, slicing him there, and he felt weaker and weaker and finally just _snapped_. He had to get away. Stay away. No alternative.

Saizo had a duty to fulfill. He couldn’t afford to be a failure. Not anymore. If that meant a lifetime of discontent, then so be it—that’s what he’d been expecting in the first place. Nothing new.

His happiness didn’t matter, in the end. As long as he continued to fight. He’d fight for Lord Ryoma. He’d fight to protect his homeland. He’d fight to protect light and contentment, things he'd never known, but wanted to be available to others. He just hadn't expected to find a person who had taken those ideals and given them physical form. A man made of brightness in the reds and blacks of Saizo's world.

And for Saizo, hopelessly stuck on the ground, sunshine and moonlight were not things that he could touch, things that he could hold on to. Not really.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Closeted Saizo makes my heart hurt. I figured it could act as a plausible factor in his state of near-constant anger.
> 
> Sorry if you didn’t like the format—I figured a more stream-of-consciousness style would be more appropriate in attempting to convey Saizo’s thoughts.


	9. Indeterminate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy birthday, Uly! I hope it was a good one.
> 
> Indeterminate (adjective, pronounced as “in-di-TUR-muh-nit”): 1) Inconclusive; vague. 2) Uncertain, not clear.

Saizo was avoiding him. It was glaringly obvious, considering how constant of a presence they’d been in each other’s lives for...huh, it had been over a year since they’d first met. The Hoshidan hadn't just vanished, but in Laslow’s life, he may as well have.

“I don’t get it—I just don’t.” Laslow picked at his food half-heartedly across from Selena and Odin at their usual table. “It’s been an entire month, and I’ve seen him around, but he hasn’t even looked at me. Kagero’s been guarding Prince Ryoma during meetings with our masters, so I can’t see him there, either. If I walk towards him, he does that damned vanish-ey thing that ninja do. It’s driving me mad.” Laslow slumped forward and his voice was barely audible over the din of chatter and silverware scraping on dishes. “I just...want to know what I did wrong.”

Selena scoffed. “I don’t get what the big deal is. From what I’ve seen, that guy’s especially talented at ruffling feathers. Saizo staying away from you would be a dream come true for a lot of people here.”

“Selena,” Odin said lowly, flashing her a disapproving frown.

Selena looked at him in confusion. “What?” She glanced between Laslow’s distraught expression and Odin’s glare of reproach a few times until her eyes grew to the size of their dinner plates. “Oh, for the gods’ sakes.”

Laslow looked up at her. “Hm?”

“I can’t believe this!” Her grimace was full of pity. “Look, Laslow, I know you’re desperate, but that doesn’t mean you have to settle for the dregs of the army! There’s a chance that you’ll meet someone down the road. ...A long, long, _long_ way down, but still.”

“I resent every single thing you just said.”

“I’m trying to help you!” she argued. “Are you literally telling me that you have the hots for your stalker?”

“For the last time, he’s not a stalker—he’s doing his job. Which, okay, yeah, involves following people and observing their every action, but it’s for a good cause.” Laslow drummed his fingers restlessly on the table as he stared down at his food. “And besides, he probably stopped doing it to me a while ago.” Saizo no longer wanted anything to do with him, after all.

“You make it sound like that’s a bad thing.” When Laslow said nothing, Selena let out a huff. “Fine, fine. Let’s just look at this logically and get it out of the way so that I don’t lose my appetite completely. From what you can remember, Saizo got all pissy when you asked him if he was going to settle down. To me, the answer’s obvious: he _did_ have his eye on someone, but she’s already gotten married.”

The possibility hadn’t occurred to Laslow. Ouch. “Wow. That sounds...pretty sad, actually,” he muttered.

Selena snorted. “If you say so. I say the woman’s lucky he didn’t get to her first.”

“You’re horrible!” Laslow should’ve known that his censure would have no effect, as was evidenced by Selena serenely taking a sip of her water as she looked at him without remorse.

“There might be other possible explanations,” Odin pointed out.

Laslow perked up at that. “Yes? Like what?”

“Well, uh...” Odin scratched his head. “Give me a minute.”

“That could be true,” countered Selena, “but I still say that my theory’s the most likely.”

Laslow sighed. “You’re right, that could be it.” And that wouldn’t do him any good.

“Look, I’m trying to help you,” said Selena, pointing at him with her fork. “You’re way too sensitive, and pining after some grumpy sneak isn’t going to get you anywhere. There are other fish in the sea.”

The dancer looked up at her, his expression softening. “You’re trying to protect me, aren’t you?”

Selena averted her eyes almost sheepishly. “Whatever. It’s just that I see you a lot, so if you stay all mopey, it’s going to drag everyone down.”

Laslow smiled at her. “Thanks, Selena.”

“Don’t thank me,” she scoffed. “I’m trying to help you purely out of self-interest.”

“Of course.”

Odin spoke up for the first time in about two minutes, which must have felt an eternity to him. “You are in good hands, Laslow, with stalwart allies at your disposal. Do not lose faith. By this hand, I swear that Selena and I shall smite any and all forces which would foolishly attempt to undermine your happiness!”

Selena rolled her eyes at the sorcerer. “And how do you propose we do that, genius?”

“Maybe you can give him some love advice,” he suggested.

“I really only know advice for women,” she replied with a shake of her head. “Although, come to think of it...” Her eyes slid over to Laslow as her eyebrows rose.

“Not another word from you,” Laslow snapped.

Odin cut in before the bickering could continue. “I have an idea. You need a distraction! Niles told me a bunch of the guys are taking him to town tonight to celebrate his engagement. I wasn’t gonna go, but I think you need this. Let’s do it!”

“Well..." Laslow was a bit too ashamed to admit that he couldn’t hold his liquor to save his life. Not only that, but he just wasn’t in the mood. He really, really wanted to say “no,” but was too much of a people-pleaser at his core. Dammit. “All right, you've convinced me,” he conceded. “But you'd better be there to help drag me back to the castle if I get too plastered to make it back on my own.”

Odin smirked. “We have an accord. Our band shall be striking off to the west at dusk. Be at the gate by then.”

 

.~.~.

 

The pub was crowded. Noisy. A bit grimy. Everything that a pub should be, really. Laslow nursed his first drink for a bit with Odin at one of the main tables, but eventually his eye was drawn to a smaller one in the corner. He was surprised to see that its lone occupant was Niles himself, watching the raucous Hoshidan and Nohrian soldiers with an amused little grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. He must’ve sensed that Laslow was looking at him, because he locked eyes with him and quirked a brow. Laslow decided to go over and keep him company—after all, maybe the pale haired man would be willing to explain why he’d asked Odin those questions about Saizo and himself.

“Evening, Niles,” said Laslow as he sat in the chair opposite him. “How’s your night going?”

Niles chuckled. “Nothing noteworthy to report. Yours?”

“Fine, fine.” Laslow was at a bit of a loss as to what to say next.

Fortunately (or unfortunately, depending on the outlook), Niles was one who preferred to cut to the chase. “I can only assume that you’ve approached me because Odin told you that I’ve taken notice of your situation,” he said.

“...What situation?” Damn, Niles was perceptive.

“You know exactly what. Saizo. The Hoshidan. Red hair, mask, thighs that could crack walnuts—sound familiar?” He smirked at Laslow’s little squeak of surprise. “I may be missing an eye, but I’m not blind. Something’s up.”

Laslow wasn’t sure how to proceed, since he didn’t often speak with the fellow retainer, but he knew that Niles could smell a person's unease like a shark could smell blood in the water. “Congratulations on your engagement,” he said hurriedly. “I’m sure that you and Lord Corrin will be very happy together.”

Niles’s expression lightened. “I’m happy for me, too, but your attempt at deflecting was pathetic. Now, talk.”

“Well, um, he’s been avoiding me for weeks, and—” Laslow suddenly stopped and shook his head. “Wait, wait. There’s something that I don’t get. I don’t mean to be rude, but...why do you _care_? Why would you try to help me?”

Niles’s face was impassive. "Because you're a decent retainer and a friend of a friend, and I get the impression that you aren't some happy-go-lucky idiot without a care in the world. You've suffered—I can tell." Laslow swirled the contents of his mug, refusing to look up at the other man. "I noticed the same thing about Odin, some time back. You two are like me."

"And just how are we like you?" asked Laslow skeptically.

He looked up to see that Niles had propped his chin up in his hand, leaning closer to Laslow with a languid smile. "You see ghosts."

Laslow shuddered. He really wanted to leave.

Before he could stand up from the table, though, Niles reverted back to the lascivious image he'd so carefully cultivated over the years. "Plus, you're adorable, in your own clueless way—a bit like a puppy," he said. "And, despite my rough exterior, I'd rather not watch a pathetic little puppy starve to death. I'm not a _complete_ barbarian, after all." He chuckled.

“I heard that you once told Lady Camilla that you’d leave a puppy out in the cold.”

Niles nodded. “I did. But I can also feel myself changing, just a bit.” He snorted softly, but there was a little smile on his face as his eye drifted from Laslow. “I’m beginning to suspect that Corrin’s goodwill is infectious.”

Laslow laughed. “Well, no matter the cause, I’m thankful to know that there’s at least one other open-minded person here. Honestly, when Odin’s comments implied that you know that I...enjoy the company of men as well as women, I was a little worried that you would shred any semblance of self-confidence that I might have."

"Well, we're in the same boat. It wouldn't do to throw overboard fellow travelers who may well end up being allies, now would it?" There was something a little vicious at the edge of Niles's smile, but Laslow knew that he was teasing. Well, he hoped that he was, anyway. "What would I do if I needed help rowing said boat?"

“I’m not sure I know what that means.”

“Neither am I, really.” Niles rubbed his face and eyed his mug as he muttered, “Is this my fourth, or my fourth? ...Heh, I said ‘fourth’ twice.”

Laslow just stared at him “So, can I trust you to keep mum about my preferences? Please, don’t speak of this to anyone.”

Niles put his hand over his heart, looking at Laslow with mock-hurt. “Why, Laslow, perish the thought! I’d never dream of telling anyone of significance that you enjoy being _manhandled_.” Laslow blushed, assuming that Odin must’ve told Niles about that embarrassing outburst to Gerome all those years ago. Rude. Before he could say anything in response, though, Niles beat him to the punch. “Speaking of which, you’ve been having quite the self-pity-party lately.”

“Hmph.”

“I bet you’re worried that your little crush is too obvious to Saizo, which has turned him off. I wouldn’t worry about that. The man seems about as dense as you are.”

Laslow ignored the fact that Niles was blatantly insulting him. “You’re wrong. He’s got to be avoiding me for _some_ reason.”

Niles rolled his eye. “Use your brain. The man’s conservative as hell, and everything about him positively screams ‘repressed’. Have you even noticed the way that _he_ looks at _you_?”

Laslow’s brow scrunched up. “There’s nothing to notice.”

“Gods, but you’re oblivious,” muttered Niles as he dragged a hand down his face. “I don’t know if I can deal with someone this dull.”

Again, Laslow ignored the barb. “It doesn’t even matter, anyway,” he said lowly. “There’s nothing worth finding in me that’s attractive enough to hold anyone’s interest—years of experience have taught me that.” Niles stared at him wordlessly. “Besides,” he continued, “supposing that Saizo ever did find me appealing, I’d have no idea of how to move forward. I’ve never been with a man.” Or woman, for that matter—according to Selena, a couple of drunken, sloppy makeout sessions in the past didn’t count. But Niles didn’t need to know about those.

“Don’t worry—there are ways of making it happen,” replied Niles, voice suspiciously chipper.

They were straying off topic, but Laslow was curious, in spite of himself. "I dunno. How could I even...persuade a man to, you know...enjoy my company?" What was he, twelve? He should be better at this, for the gods' sakes.

Niles just shrugged with a grin. "Use hard liquor and black underwear, like everyone else." Laslow choked on his drink, which made the former outlaw chuckle. “Now that I think about it, deciding to forgo teasing you seems like a mistake. You blush beautifully.” The thief’s eye glittered mischievously over the rim of his mug as he took a sip of his ale.

“H-hey! Knock it off! You’re practically a married man, you scoundrel!”

“Which is why I won’t continue to bait you, counterintuitive as it feels. Ugh. Am I actually becoming _nice_?”

Laslow couldn’t help but laugh at the look on Niles’s face that was somewhere between confusion and disgust. “Maybe not ‘nice’,” he suggested, in an attempt to placate the other man, “just loyal. You always have been to Lord Leo, so it only makes sense that you’d be loyal to your fiancé.” He glanced over to his right and saw that Odin was trying to climb onto a table, but he kept falling and cursing almost incoherently (what the hell did “By the dark might of Gradivus!” mean?). Wow. How drunk _was_ he? “I’d better go,” he sighed. “Duty calls.”

Niles just hummed quietly and continued to idly trace the whorls in the table’s wood with his index finger. Laslow stood up from the table and began making his way to his friend, deciding that he should just leave Niles to his thoughts. “Laslow.” The dancer looked over his shoulder to see that Niles was giving him a somewhat ambivalent look. “I’m not really sure how I can help you, so...good luck.”

Laslow gave him an uncertain smile before he walked away.

 

.~.~.

 

An invasion.

They hit the astral castle every now and then, completely unanticipated and jarring as soldiers rushed to armor and arm themselves. Everyone was in a disarray until Prince Corrin came onto the field, enlisting the help of Princes Leo and Takumi in directing units to defend the three entrance gates.

Undead Vallite soldiers were, if Laslow were to put it delicately, really fucking terrifying. Sometimes they were visible, sometimes they weren't—whenever that happened, you could only spot them by their ethereal, shimmering outlines. Like Risen, they didn’t feel pain, they didn’t retreat, and they didn't surrender.

Laslow had found himself paired with Peri, who looked far too jovial for his tastes at the prospect of bloodshed. Still, while he never looked forward to a battle, he was more than capable of holding his own. His sword sliced through enemies like they were made of butter and, while he was still a bit clunky with his axe, he was able to gain a decent amount of experience.

Despite the army’s hasty assembly, defeating the first wave of Vallites went easily enough. No one anticipated a second wave of foes, however, following at least ten minutes after the first had taken the army by surprise. It was like they'd materialized from thin air. Flocks of wyvern lords and kinshi knights appeared from the east and west, infantry not far behind. The pincer attack was clearly an attempt to block them in as they were still regrouping. Shit, they weren't ready.

Chaos overtook the castle grounds as the army scrambled to enter the fray once more. Laslow now fought desperately, Peri nowhere in sight, as he dodged arrows and shots of magic. He needed to get near one of his allies, and quickly.

The hero saw in his peripherals a bolt of jagged light flash just a few meters away from him. Prince Ryoma, fighting alone for some reason, was finishing up with a berserker by striking it with Raijinto's lightning magic from a distance. The second it was down, the prince was rushed by a wyvern lord, the Vallite's undead mount letting loose a blood-chilling wail. Absorbed as the swordmaster was in fending off the new focal point of his wrath, he failed to notice a basara coming up on his left. It held a naginata, and the blood in Laslow's veins froze when he recognized the notched, curved blade as that of a swordcatcher. Oh, gods. Prince Ryoma was nimble as hell and hit incredibly hard, but he couldn't defend himself nearly as well as Prince Xander and never knew when to quit.

The next sequence of events happened so quickly that Laslow counted it a miracle that he could even remember what had happened. He saw his axe laying on the ground, too far away for him to reach. Sword in hand, he ran full-tilt towards the basara with a shout, trying to draw its attention away from Lord Ryoma. He brought his blade up to block the Vallite from reaching the prince—and, predictably, Laslow’s sword got caught in the notched blade. The jolt of the impact ruined his balance, and the basara got in the first hit. In what seemed like slow motion, he felt the naginata stabbing him, easily tearing right through his tunic and sinking into his left shoulder. Ouf, that was deep. White-hot agony exploded in Laslow's nervous system as he cried out. Miraculously, he used an adrenaline induced burst of strength to land a couple of clean hits to the Vallite's abdomen, knocking the undead soldier back several paces as his left arm hung limply at his side. He couldn’t lift his damned shield.

The basara came rushing back. Laslow could tell that it was readying a horizontal swing to finish him off. Blood seeping thickly from his shoulder, Laslow fell to his knees and ducked beneath the naginata's arc. He thrust his blade out and up with all the strength he had. His sword skewered the Vallite, which collapsed to the ground with a raspy final cry.

Laslow, stunned, remained kneeling for a few moments. Suddenly, exhaustion smashed into him like a Faceless’s fist, and his full body slumped to the ground. The hit to his shoulder felt like it had broken bone, and more than one at that. He was tired. So tired. Maybe he could get away with taking a quick nap in the middle of the field. It was at least worth a shot, since his eyes were having trouble staying open, anyway. The fuzziness in his mind felt like it was spreading, blanketing every inch of his body, and it felt really, really nice. Soft.

Faintly, he heard a voice shout his name—that of a man or woman, he really couldn’t tell. It felt like his ears were stuffed with cotton. But he _couldn’t_ fall asleep. What if he didn’t wake up? What if he was never able to say...say what?

His thought trailed off as Laslow’s wounds ripped his consciousness from him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next: the A-Support. ...I didn’t plan for there to be seven chapters between the B- and A-Supports, but that’s life for you, haha. I cannot _wait_ for this story to start getting happy again.


	10. Galvanize

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Galvanize (verb, pronounced as “GAL-vuh-nahyz”): 1) To rouse to action or effort. 2) To spur on.

After spending a few hazy days in the infirmary, Laslow was still getting much more attention than he preferred. Prince Ryoma had personally thanked him for saving his life, shaking his hand so vigorously that it’d made Laslow's healing shoulder twinge. Lord Xander was clearly very pleased with him, and had given Laslow as much relief from his duties as needed until his injuries were completely taken care of. They would've been difficult to perform with one arm in a sling, anyway; Princess Elise was making him wear the stupid thing so that his mending bones would set properly.

He was still able to perform a few jobs, such as selling items in the rod and stave shops—vulneraries weren’t all that heavy—and helping with the lottery. Laslow never liked feeling that he was useless. He did occasionally go to town with a group from Lord Corrin’s army, usually for supply runs—but the others usually just let him meander off, since his bum shoulder meant that he couldn’t help to carry much.

Falling into familiar habits, his path on one such excursion led him to this quaint little teahouse which was run by a tottering old woman who treated Laslow as if he were her own son. When she saw that his left arm was immobilized, she unnecessarily fretted over him for putting his safety at risk. Nevertheless, she sat him down at a little table next to a large window and brought him tea and a slice of cake—on the house, she insisted, and refused to let him pay.

For what was quite possibly the first time in his life, a young lady approached him tentatively with a shy smile. “Excuse me,” she said, gesturing to the chair across from him, “may I?”

Laslow gaped for a moment in shock before he could gather his wits about him. “O-oh! Why, yes. Of course.”

As she took her seat, Laslow noticed that she was very pretty, almost extraordinarily so. She introduced herself as the owner swooped in with some tea for her, almost like she’d been watching them. Laslow gave the old woman an uncertain and slightly panicked looking half-smile when she winked at him from over the girl’s shoulder. “I must confess that I couldn’t help overhearing your conversation with the proprietor,” his sudden companion said when the sweet lady had retreated. “Did I hear correctly that you’re a soldier?”

For some reason, the Nohrian studiously avoided looking her in the eye. “Um, yes. That’s right.”

“How fascinating. But I see that you’re wounded! You must have done something very brave.”

“Not really, no,” replied Laslow flatly. Hm. He’d have typically launched into some smooth, well-practiced phrases by now in an attempt to charm her, but the desire to do so was nowhere to be found. Instead, just staring blankly out the window seemed much more appealing. His mind was practically blank.

Laslow studied her closely, noticing her eyes, her diction, her smile, her posture, her dress. Anyone could see that she was very attractive, and she was still smiling at him as she spoke. But he felt nothing. What in the _hell_ was wrong with him? As he continued to scrutinize her (what was her name, again?), she began to look a bit uncomfortable. “Are you all right?” she asked.

Laslow blinked several times, realizing that he’d been staring for too long. “What? Oh. I’m so sorry, but...I think my shoulder’s acting up.” That was definitely a lie, but it did give him an idea. “As a matter of fact,” he continued, standing abruptly, “I’d better head back to get it looked at. Thank you for your time!”

As Laslow practically sprinted from the interior of the teahouse, he could’ve sworn that he heard her calling after him. He felt bad about it, but that wasn’t going to keep him from retreating like a bashful schoolboy. Gods, he never would’ve thought that he’d be able to sympathize with Gerome and Brady’s plight.

It only occurred to Laslow that he’d abandoned his company of fellow soldiers as he walked through the castle entrance. Whoops. Running from a woman who’d expressed interest in him was likely one of the least characteristic things he’d ever done.

He knew why he’d, done it, though. It was too obvious, especially when he saw a masked man with fiery hair headed his way. Perfect.

Oh gods, Saizo was two feet away. Talk. _Talk_ , dammit. Finally, Laslow was able to open his mouth. “Haven't seen you in a while, Saizo." He winked and tried to grin mischievously, but it felt strange on his face.

The ninja came to a halt and crossed his arms, his gaze trained on Laslow silently.

...Now what? Saizo wasn’t making this easy, and Laslow wracked his brain as to what he might say. Well, the ninja was approaching him for the first time in weeks, so something must’ve caused him to seek Laslow out. Maybe...this conversation could be a fresh start. Yes. He could do it. He just needed to fall back onto subjects that weren’t very personal, since whatever he’d said right before Saizo had snapped in their last conversation had to have been about private matters. “When are we having our rematch? This time, I'll show you what I can really do! You'll _have_ to accept I'm a retainer!”

Saizo just looked at him blankly—perhaps he wasn’t sure why Laslow was bringing that up after all this time. “I accept that you're a retainer,” he replied after a pause.

“Huh?” Laslow grunted, a bit stunned. He’d just assumed that Saizo’s aversion to him also meant that he’d lost any respect that he had earned from the ninja.

Saizo gave an almost imperceptible shrug. “I've already seen what you're capable of. So I yield. You should be thankful.”

“‘Thankful’?” Laslow grimaced. “But we never had our rematch!” It felt strange, a bit comical, even, reliving that day in town so many months ago. But it seemed that Saizo was going along with it. Perhaps he felt just as awkward as he did. “Oh! Maybe you saw how chivalrous I was to that woman in the teahouse?”

He hadn’t been chivalrous. Not even close. But whatever.

Saizo gave him that “I will never figure you out” look, one with which Laslow was very familiar by now. “I don't go to teahouses. I was talking about what happened in the last skirmish.”

Laslow didn't want to hear praise from Saizo. Gods, he could already feel a flush coming on. “Refresh my memory?” Play dumb. Play dumb. He highly doubted it would work, considering the fact that he was wearing a sling. Damn, this was so _awkward_.

Saizo took a little step closer to Laslow; it seemed like he was having trouble taking his sharp gaze from his left shoulder. When he looked back up, his expression was difficult to decipher. “You saved Lord Ryoma's life,” he said. “During the ambush from the invisible foes, most of us were caught flat footed. Then you appeared from nowhere to cut down an enemy attacking Lord Ryoma.”

“Ah, right! I remember that now.” Oh, please—as if he could ever forget those few minutes that had nearly cost him his life. “I'm just glad Prince Ryoma wasn't hurt.” At least that part was definitely true.

“As Lord Ryoma's foremost retainer, I owe you for that.”

“Well, you're welcome.” Laslow figured that divulging some of his past wouldn't hurt. “I'm used to fighting phantom enemies,” he said. “It's honestly a bit old hat for me by now.”

“Indeed?” Saizo looked interested, but not very convinced.

Laslow grinned. “Yeah, you could say that. Some of the things that happened where I'm from....” He absentmindedly rubbed the back of his neck. “It's a long, long story.”

“Ah. And your swordsmanship comes from your homeland as well, I take it? I’ve seen many techniques from all over Nohr and Hoshido, but none like yours. It’s like you’re toying with your enemy.... I hate to admit it, but it’s a sight to see.” He was definitely smiling, just a little. Laslow could tell by now. Saizo must’ve been impressed with him, since he usually held back in training. “It must have been your skill that Prince Xander recognized in you.”

Here it came: that stupid flush, a dead giveaway. “I-I’m not sure I can handle so much praise coming from you....” Laslow stammered, cheeks aflame.

Saizo let out that little huff which passed as his laugh. “Your performance during the skirmish proved your worth in my mind. I acknowledge you as my equal in being retainer to a future king.”

“Haha! You’re no less full of yourself than before, huh?”

Saizo’s face took on a more tense expression. “No. And no less suspicious of your origins, either.” Laslow's smile faded. Was Saizo still not past that? Maybe he was imagining that their relationship had moved far beyond the ninja’s need for suspicion. “We should have another competition,” Saizo continued. “You’re a worthy rival.... I won’t give up until I’ve delved into all the secrets of your past.”

Refusing to reveal that he felt slighted, Laslow just gave the other a cocky grin as an idea came to him of how he could prolong their time together. “Eh, why not? I’ll take the challenge. Shall we go into town and see who can impress the locals more again?”

“Heh,” Saizo chuckled. “You read my mind.” Laslow felt a little thrill run through him.

 

.~.~.

 

They walked to town a mere couple of hours later, having obtained permission from their princes to take a small break. Though they’d initially planned on holding another charm-off, they just sort of...talked. And talked. Idly walking down the busy roads for a little while, neither of the retainers even tried to pretend that they were looking for people to approach.

They discussed practically anything that came to mind as they meandered, Laslow stopping at stalls and tiny shops here or there to look at items as Saizo waited patiently. The redhead spoke a bit of Igasato, his home in the mountains of Hoshido where he and his family had lived. Laslow listened as Saizo recounted some things from his childhood, like how he and his brother had helped with practically anything that needed doing in the settlement, from farming to roof thatching to assisting the elderly. He knew, though, that Saizo was purposely omitting the hell that he and Kaze had gone through in their training to become the fearsome ninja that they were. Laslow wasn’t sure how he felt about that—but at the same time, he was keeping plenty of things to himself, as well.

He still was able to tell plenty of ridiculous tales about his own past, though. “And then, just as I’m about to say hello to this pretty lass in front of a bakery—oh! D’you want some?” Laslow held out a little tin of candies that he’d bought from a market stall.

Saizo’s face crinkled up like he’d smelled something unpleasant. “Thank you, but no. Too sweet.”

“Oh, all right. Anyway, before I get within three feet of the girl, an arrow flies right past me and bam, it lodges in the sign within an inch of hitting her head! It was terrifying!” Laslow shuddered. “Noire’s sweet, she really is, but that _temper_....”

Saizo snorted quietly. “You have no shortage of interesting stories. Much more colorful than the ones I have to offer.”

“Come now,” Laslow replied, “There are still plenty of things that have happened since I’ve known you that have been pretty interesting, too. Remember how Oboro nearly stripped you naked when she tried to force you into wearing nicer clothes?”

Saizo grunted. “You just _had_ to bring that up.” He looked over at Laslow with a cocked eyebrow. “What about the time when Mozu found you passed out and hogtied to a tree?”

“Oh, come on! That’s hardly a fair comparison. And anyway, at least Felicia didn’t almost turn me into a popsicle.”

“Now you’re just splitting hairs.”

“Aha, giving up already, are we?” Laslow chortled.

“Change the subject.”

“Okay...” Hm. To what? Oh, maybe Saizo’s apparent good mood would make it easier for Laslow to ask him about what had been niggling him from the first conversation that day. “There’s something I want to know: if you’ve decided that I’m trustworthy, then why are you still so suspicious of where I’m from?”

Saizo hummed lowly. “‘Suspicious’ is perhaps too strong a word—it’s more along the lines of curiosity. I want to know what your homeland is like, what happened there to transform you into such a fierce fighter. I want to know about your parents and friends. Why you dance.”

Laslow startled and ground to a halt. So did Saizo half a second later, and he turned slowly to face the smaller man, visibly wincing. They accidentally spoke at the same time, Laslow spluttering out the word, “D-d-dance?” while Saizo just said, “Damn.”

“How long have you known?” cried Laslow. “Oh...I think I’m going to throw up. I’m going to throw up.”

“Calm down!” said Saizo, he himself looking far from composed. “I was going to tell you eventually.”

“ _Eventually_?”

“Yes. Why do you even feel the need to sneak out? While I’m far from being an expert, you are obviously quite talented.”

Laslow’s ears were burning. “I’m just...shy, okay? You already knew that. I can’t believe you never told me that you saw me.”

“Hmph. You certainly don’t look shy whenever you dance. And in my defense, it’s not exactly a well-kept secret—anyone who’s studied you in battle has surely noticed your intricate footwork.”

“Be that as it may, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t speak of this to anyone.”

“Who would I even tell?”

“I dunno, just let it be our secret.”

“Fine.” They resumed their walk. Laslow was sure that they’d put the subject behind them, but Saizo brought it back. “I wouldn’t mind seeing it again.”

Laslow twirled the candy tin between his fingers. “Seeing what?”

“Your dancing.”

Laslow glanced over at the ninja in surprise. “Really?” he asked.

Saizo’s eye narrowed. “Is that so inconceivable?”

“N-no, I just—I wouldn’t have figured that you’d be interested.”

“I usually have no patience for art. It’s impractical and oblique. But your dancing is...interesting. Like a form of communication that I’ve never noticed before.”

Laslow could see the castle in the distance. “I suppose it is,” he agreed. “And, when I’m dancing, it’s the only time I don’t need to remind myself to smile. It just happens naturally.”

“You’re smiling right now,” Saizo countered.

The Nohrian laughed at that. “You’ve got me there.”

In what had seemed like no time at all, they were through the entrance and back within the walls of the astral castle. Laslow bid the ninja farewell and made to go to his quarters, but stopped and turned back when Saizo called his name.

“What’s the matter?” he inquired.

Saizo faced him head-on, and once again, Laslow couldn’t figure out what expression his face was making. It wasn’t anger, or surprise, or happiness. Frustration? Concern? Maybe. Whatever it was, it was making Laslow’s lungs feel funny. “You—you shouldn't be so reckless,” said Saizo. “I'm sure that...Prince Xander...would be devastated if you went and got yourself killed.”

“I just did what I felt was best. It likely saved your lord’s life,” Laslow pointed out.

“My statement still stands,” asserted the ninja. “You have to stay safe. For your prince’s sake.”

Laslow had had no idea that Saizo cared about the Nohrian royal’s wellbeing so fervently. “Okay,” he replied. “You're right—I'll watch out for myself so that I don't cause him any unnecessary pain. Thanks for the suggestion.”

He smiled up at Saizo, who blinked at him a couple of times. Laslow could've sworn that his face was a bit pink. Was he embarrassed? About what? “Good,” replied Saizo. “Let me know when you’re fully healed so that I can continue to assist you.”

“‘Assist’ me? Why?”

“If I had been in the right place at the right time, you would have had no need to divert that enemy from Lord Ryoma. It would be a mark upon my honor to turn a blind eye to someone who’s done me a great service.”

“Did you just make a pun?”

“What?”

Laslow snickered. “Never mind. What I meant to say is that, yes, I’d like to keep working with you.” His voice grew warmer. “I’d like that very much.”

“...All right, then.” Laslow was amused to see that Saizo had begun fiddling with one of the ends of his scarf. “I'll see you in the morning." And he was suddenly gone, doing that sort of ninja-ey thing again.

Laslow went into his room, but as he got ready for bed, his mind kept replaying Saizo’s halting words and red face. Cute. What Niles had asked him in the tavern those couple of weeks ago came into his head, unbidden: “ _Have you even noticed the way that_ he _looks at_ you?”

Well, frankly, he’d never bothered to look in the first place. What could there be to see? He was probably just imaging that Saizo showed more patience and humor with him than with most other people...or maybe even _all_ other people.

But looking at what had happened today, the way that Saizo had walked with him, talked with him, even engaged in casual banter and expressed earnest concern for his safety...well, maybe Laslow had won the charm-off this time.


	11. Coalesce

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME! Posting this is basically my b-day gift to myself, haha.
> 
>  
> 
> Coalesce (verb, pronounced as “koh-uh-LES”): 1) To blend or come together. 2) To unite together or into one body.

The victory felt...hollow, somehow. Hollow and rapid, flying by in the time that it’d taken for Laslow to blink. That was how it had felt, at least, as Laslow emerged from the portal and back into Lord Corrin’s castle. The Silent Dragon had finally, finally fallen. As the dancer returned to his quarters, placing his sheathed sword next to his bed, he absentmindedly wondered what it would feel like to not have to fight anymore. He couldn’t remember how that felt.

Prince Ryoma had graciously announced that he would be hosting a celebration in Shirasagi Castle Town, absolutely refusing to take no for an answer. It was a bit of a shock for the Hoshidan citizens to see Nohrian royalty and soldiers being escorted to the town square, but no real resistance surfaced when the locals saw how well the formerly opposing armies were getting along—that, and the fact that trying to argue with a determined Prince Ryoma would’ve been a complete fool’s errand. The celebrations were going to be enormous, that much Laslow could tell. Frankly, it all seemed surreal.

And Laslow felt outside of it all. As he stood on the outskirts of the revelry, as most everyone he knew was singing, dancing, eating, laughing, it was like he was watching a play: able to observe what was going on, but incapable of participating. He realized that he had to get away. Something was making his stomach churn.

As the retainer leaned up against a cherry blossom tree, doing his best to shade himself from view, he saw someone approach from the corner of his eye. Her flowing, impossibly long blue hair was unmistakable. “Azura,” he greeted. “Are you enjoying the party, milady?”

The Vallite princess gave him one of her soft smiles. “I am, Laslow, thank you. It’s a bit of a surprise to see you standing still, though. Why aren’t you out there dancing with the others?”

Laslow scratched his hair and looked away from her serene yet penetrating gaze. “Haha, I’m just not really in the mood.”

Azura laughed lightly. “I sang for the others. I think it would only be fair if you danced for them. Your dancing always finds a way to lift people’s spirits.”

Laslow sighed and met her eye. “Thanks, but I’m not feeling particularly social. I, um...have a few things on my mind.”

She looked at him silently for a few moments. “I see,” the songstress eventually said. “Please, come with me.” She turned from Laslow and began walking towards the outskirts of the town. Curious, he couldn’t help but follow.

 

.~.~.

 

The lake to which Azura led him was beautiful, quite possibly the most beautiful one he’d ever seen. “This is where I used to come whenever I needed some time alone,” she explained softly. “I hope that this place can act as a respite for you, too.”

Laslow stared at the water in wonder. “It’s breathtaking.”

She laughed again. “It is, isn’t it? I’ll leave you to your thoughts now. I hope that you can be at peace with whatever you decide.”

Laslow hummed noncommittally. “Yes, thank you.” It wasn’t until after she’d gone that he fully processed what she’d said. What...she couldn’t have known what he was thinking about. Of course not—Azura was just deeply intuitive.

Having obtained solitude, he dropped down to sit on the lake’s dock with a quiet huff. The twisting sensation in his stomach hadn’t lessened at all.

Here it came. Here it came, what he’d been looking forward to at first, but now left him feeling ambivalent: he was now supposed to return home.

He could return to his friends, his friends with whom he’d desperately fought to save a dying future and then traveled back to save the past. He could go home to his newfound parents, to his family that was warm and loving and _alive_. Though Laslow was technically not his parents’ son, they’d not once made him feel like he was anything otherwise. And, despite being a grown man, he desperately didn’t want to be an orphan again.

But what about everyone else _here_? What about the bonds he had made with Nohrians, Hoshidans, and Vallites alike? Did they truly mean so little that he could drop everything and return to his own realm that simply? The very idea of vanishing from the lives of so many amazing people he’d met here made him feel nauseated. Laslow felt an enormous headache coming on and he squeezed his eyes shut, hunched over as he sat on the still dock. The gentle sway of the water and the birds chirping in the trees around the lake seemed to mock him. This world, the _people_ who inhabited it, were all too real, which meant that trying to make a decision was excruciating. He didn’t want to have to think about this. He didn’t want to have to think about anything.

Slow footsteps behind him made Laslow quickly stand, and he felt his mouth reflexively curve up into a smile as he turned to see who was approaching.

His expression fell slightly in recognition of the very last person he wanted to see right then. Still, Laslow could only look at him fondly. “You made it so that I could hear you coming,” he said.

Saizo cleared his throat. “You startle far too easily. I’m not fond of the idea that I may accidentally kill you by frightening you into having a heart attack.”

Laslow’s grin widened at that. “How kind,” he teased.

“You’re welcome.” Saizo’s gaze slid from him to rest on the lake. “Why are you out here? I would have assumed that you’d be in the thick of the celebrations.”

Even though Saizo’s eye was no longer trained on him, Laslow continued to study his face. It was like he was trying to commit Saizo’s features to memory, every line, every mark, every contour. “I just needed to think about some things,” he muttered.

Saizo looked back to the other man. “Nothing good, though.”

Laslow’s forehead puckered. “Why do you say that?”

“I’ve told you before—you’re easy to read.”

“Believe it or not, I’ve actually known quite a few people who’ve claimed otherwise,” Laslow replied.

Saizo snorted quietly. “Well, most people aren’t nearly as observant as I.”

Laslow had to chuckle at that. “Yeah, you’re really something special.”

In the reddish light of the golden hour as the sun prepared to set, it almost looked like Saizo’s face had warmed with the same hue. “What’s on your mind?” he asked.

Laslow realized that he couldn’t lie to Saizo anymore. “Home,” he said simply.

“Ah.”

Laslow snapped out of his musings, surprised at the shortness of Saizo’s response. “Uh, aren’t you going to ask me about that? I thought that you were still bound and determined to dig up all of my secrets. You even brought it up about a month ago, remember?”

“I’ve been...reassessing my priorities. Focusing on winning the war outweighed uncovering your origins. A lot of things outweighed it. And looking back over the past couple of years, I should have realized earlier that my priorities were skewed.”

Laslow’s eyes widened. “Goodness, has it really been that long since you threatened to kill me?”

“It was indeed a while ago,” Saizo replied. “I...I’m not sure if I’ve ever formally apologized for attacking you. It was rash of me, and I am truly sorry.” His eye was downcast, like he was waiting for Laslow to scold him.

Instead, Laslow smirked lightly. "Well, it’s been long enough that I’m willing to count it as water under the bridge. We'll 'scratch it', as we say in Nohr." Saizo looked up at him, and Laslow could've sworn that he was smiling under his mask. “I mean, I’d say we’ve grown rather close, wouldn’t you?”

“Inexplicably, perhaps, but yes,” replied Saizo, and Laslow rolled his eyes good-naturedly.

Still, a thought passed through Laslow’s mind that roused his insecurities. “By the way...when exactly did you deem me trustworthy enough to no longer need surveillance? You’ve never told me.” As Laslow spoke, Saizo slowly walked to the end of the dock and looked out over the lake, the sunlight glinting off the surface. The dancer tried to imprint into his memory the scene before him, of Saizo’s strong, dark silhouette backlit by the sinking sun, standing firm before the glittering orange water. He’d die before he forgot what that looked like.

“I feel that I should tell you something,” the redhead said slowly.

Laslow’s heart leaped into his throat. “Oh. What’s, um, what’s that?” he asked, mentally cursing his voice for cracking.

“Our partnership—when we were first ordered to work together—that wasn’t by mere chance. I suggested to Lord Ryoma that I be allowed to supervise you. He offered the arrangement to your liege because of me.”

Laslow’s heart stopped at the implication. It couldn’t be. “So the whole time, you—you were really just trying to—”

“ _No_.” Laslow flinched when Saizo flashed to standing right in front of him in the blink of an eye. "It started out that way," said Saizo hastily, before Laslow could get another word in edgewise. "I can admit to you that my original intention was to uncover truths about your past. But after I...” Here, the ninja exhaled loudly through his nose. “I eventually realized that you’d proven yourself to be trustworthy. And you are. Extremely so.” Laslow looked up at him, eyes wide and afraid, to see a softness in the ninja’s expression that did nothing to calm Laslow’s poor heart. “I would trust you with my life,” Saizo assured earnestly.

Laslow could feel his eyes welling up. He’d been so _frightened_. “Oh,” he croaked quietly.

Saizo looked alarmed at Laslow’s tears. “Don’t cry. I’m not worth crying over.” He almost sounded ashamed.

Laslow wiped at his face, his breathing thin and strained as he squeezed his eyes shut. “D-d-don’t worry,” he muttered. “This happens, sometimes. Just give me a moment. Please.”

“Take what time you need. I never meant to alarm you. I’m sorry.”

Laslow laughed as he cried. “You keep apologizing to me. It feels weird.”

“I’m s—oh. Well, it’s not without cause.” Saizo paused for several moments until the flow of Laslow’s tears ceased and his breathing started returning to some semblance of normalcy. “There was something else that I wanted to say.”

Laslow hiccuped as he wiped his face with his sleeve. “Great. Can’t wait.”

“Don’t look so nervous. I wanted to tell you that I stopped being assigned to work with you quite some time ago.”

Laslow paused as he was brushing away the last of his tears. “...Really? Why did you keep working with me, then?” It didn’t make much sense for Saizo to have continued spending so much time with him, unless he was correct before when he’d guessed that it had just become a habit for the ninja.

“Hm. I’m not sure how to put in into words.” Saizo was acting a bit restless, his eye flitting to look everywhere but at Laslow. Odd. “I suppose that, over time, I came to enjoy your company instead of merely viewing you as a job to be done. You’re very charismatic. Magnetic, to an almost frustrating degree.”

Ugh ugh ugh. Saizo didn’t even realize what he was _doing_ to poor Laslow whenever he said things like that. This was possibly one of the worst conversations he’d ever had. “W-well, uh, so are you,” he managed to spit out. “I remember once saying that I couldn’t possibly imagine how you could charm people so effectively, but I get it now. You’re a bit rough around the edges, sure, but you’re also honest, and smart, and helpful.” Laslow felt a blush coming on, but he had no way of trying to suppress it. “You’re just... _good_ ,” he finished, gesturing to Saizo vaguely.

The Hoshidan seemed to be at a loss for words, and Laslow was worried that his fat mouth had ruined the mood yet again. At length, the ninja said, “So, you’ll be returning to Nohr with your king-to-be in a matter of days.”

“Actually, well, I have to go...home. Which is much, much farther away from here than Nohr.”

Saizo looked at him sharply. “You’re—what? What compels you to do so? Why now?”

“That’s what I’ve been planning to do ever since I got here. I’ve done my part. My family’s waiting for me.” It hurt. It hurt, saying this, felt like a sword was running him through. But he saw no point in staying in a world where Saizo could never be his. He couldn’t bear that. Laslow had thought that he could fight this, fight these feelings that had affected his life so completely, but he’d been ridiculously—stupidly—off the mark.

Saizo began to look like he was struggling for composure, his breathing becoming noticeably uneven as Laslow spoke. “Is something wrong?” Laslow asked concernedly. “Are you all right?” He saw that the ninja’s hands were balled into tight fists as he stared at the ground.

“No, actually,” said the ninja shortly, looking back up to glower at Laslow. “You’ve been making my life a living hell for far too long.”

Laslow felt a frigid chill run through him. “What? But I thought—you said— _what_?” Breathe, gods damn it, breathe.

“Laslow.”

“I don’t understand! What did I do? I mean, sure, I’m not the best retainer, and I know that I screw most everything up, but—”

“Laslow...”

“I-I’m sure I can make it up to y—”

“Laslow!” Saizo grasped the smaller man by the shoulders. “That wasn’t what I intended to say. I misspoke.”

Laslow’s eyes were huge as they rapidly flashed from looking at Saizo’s hands to looking him in the eye. “What did you mean, then?” he squeaked.

“I meant that I find you extremely frustrating. No—” Saizo had to quickly correct himself yet again when Laslow let out a tiny gasp. “That came out wrong. I apologize. I’ve never done...this.”

“Never done _what_? You’re killing me here! I’m sure I can fix this if you give me the chance.”

Saizo looked beleaguered beyond belief. “This is not something that you can just _fix_. You can’t _fix_ your smile or your compassion or your laugh. I wouldn’t want you to. You cannot _fix_ what you’ve done to me—turning my life upside down and making me realize that you’ve inextricably become what’s most important to me in every single world that fate throws our way. You just can’t.”

It took a few moments for the ninja to realize what he’d just said. When it sunk in several seconds later, Laslow watched in disbelief as Saizo’s eyes bugged and he jumped back from Laslow like he’d been burned. It was certainly something. “You...” Laslow’s voice trailed off.

“Uh...”

There was a pregnant pause as they just stared and stared. “Come again?” Laslow mumbled. Was he going into shock? He couldn’t feel his extremities.

Face ablaze, Saizo gave him a look that was almost pained. “Are you really going to make me say it?”

“I...yeah. I think so. Just to be sure.” This wasn’t real. This was fucking impossible.

“You’re cruel. I—ugh.” The ninja’s expression suggested that he’d been stabbed, and he couldn’t even look Laslow in the eye. “I think I love you, all right?”

A few moments more of unbroken silence reigned, Laslow motionless as stone. All of a sudden, the Nohrian was glaring at Saizo heatedly. Saizo was unashamed to admit that he was absolutely terrified. “Ohhh, you _bastard_ ,” Laslow fumed, completely incensed.

Saizo stared at him in bewilderment. “...Huh?”

“I can’t believe this!” Laslow stomped his foot. Actually stomped it. Like a child. “You mean we could’ve gotten this out of the way fucking _ages_ ago? What kind of cosmic injustice is this?” He glared up at Saizo as he thrust out his hand to the ninja. “Give me your mask.”

Saizo was clearly at a loss for words, the most confused he’d ever been. “Why do you—”

“Give it!”

Saizo slowly removed it, eyeing Laslow warily as he dropped the mask into his waiting hand. “There. Now, wh—mph!”

He hadn’t been expecting Laslow to pull him down by his scarf and kiss him.

It was chaste, just a peck, really. The dancer pulled back, looking at Saizo with half-lidded eyes as if to gauge his reaction. Saizo let out a little huff—it might’ve been a sigh, maybe even a laugh—and leaned down to kiss Laslow deeply.

The mask fell to the wooden dock with a _thunk_ as Laslow’s other hand came to curl into the hair at Saizo’s nape. The Hoshidan remained motionless, but then his hands tentatively came to rest on Laslow’s hips.

Before they could get too lost in anything, though, Saizo pulled back and frowned at Laslow. “You didn’t say anything, either!” he accused.

Laslow scowled. “Just—just—shh!” He stretched on his tiptoes and pulled Saizo back down for another kiss, effectively muffling his protests. He didn’t _need_ reminding that this situation was ludicrous—he fully realized that he was snogging a ninja on a dock over a glittering lake as the sun set dramatically behind them. Laslow had pretty much given up on the idea that his life would ever be normal a long, long time ago. Not that he particularly minded right then. He sighed happily and felt Saizo’s smile against his lips as he pulled Laslow even closer. The movement made Laslow feel wonderfully lightheaded.

Hm. So he really _did_ like being manhandled, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoa, guys. Whoa. It happened. _Finally._ All that’s left is the epilogue!
> 
> Also, shoutout to literally every person who’s commented and/or given this baby of mine kudos. Words can’t express how thankful I am for your feedback.


	12. Culminate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Culminate (verb, pronounced as “KUHL-muh-neyt”): 1) To end or arrive at a final stage. 2) To rise to or form an apex.

“So, let me make sure that I’ve understood you correctly. You’re from a completely different realm than this one.”

“...Yeah.”

“A place where Hoshido and Nohr are only myth and legend.”

“Um, I believe so.”

“And you helped to slay... _another_ dragon who was bent on destroying the world. By traveling into the past.”

“Well, it all sounds pretty crazy when you say it like _that_.” Laslow ignored the fact that it would’ve sounded bonkers no matter how Saizo had said it. “Look,” he started again, trying not to sound like he was pleading. “I know how impossible it sounds, and I can’t ask Odin and Selena to back me up since we technically made a pact not to tell anyone, but all I’m asking is—”

Saizo held up a hand to stop his babbling. “I believe you,” he said simply.

Laslow’s jaw dropped as he stared at the ninja in shock. “L-like hell you do,” he spluttered. “You don’t have to lie to me.”

Saizo looked at him steadily from where they stood, in a small stand of trees in the Castle Shirasagi gardens. Laslow hadn’t wanted anyone to overhear, so he’d dragged his lover out to this secluded area. “I’ve sworn that I will never lie to you. Did you not believe me?”

“Of course I did! It’s just...”

Laslow didn’t have to voice his next thoughts, because Saizo already knew him too well. “You’re right—a couple of years ago, I would’ve assumed your tale to be the ravings of a madman. But look at what we have experienced. We lived on an astral plane. We saw people deposit their children into small realms that existed outside of ours. We saw how time was, and could be, manipulated. _And_ , to top it all off, we helped to slay a fell dragon of our own.”

Laslow couldn’t stop fidgeting. “You’ve got a point. ...More than one point.”

“You seem to be overlooking the most important thing.” The dancer watched as Saizo took his restless hands in his own; they were both a little flushed in the face. “I trust you,” the ninja said lowly, and his fiery gaze made Laslow feel like he was melting. “In every way. Do not doubt that. Ever.”

Laslow felt happy, and completely taken aback, and also a little put-out because he’d really been prepared to argue his case. Of course Saizo had to go and surprise him again. “I could kiss you,” he said with an amazed little laugh.

“Hmm.” Saizo slowly pulled his mask down to show the tiny smile underneath. “I suppose I should oblige you, then,” he said, leaning down to do just that. “I do have another question, though,” Saizo continued, pulling back before their lips met.

“What is it?”

“Inigo.” Laslow startled a bit at the unfamiliarity of hearing his true name; but it rolled off of Saizo’s tongue smoothly, beautifully, and Laslow felt like he was seeing a color instead of hearing a name. “Do you miss being called that?”

Laslow looked down and bit his lip. “I...I dunno, really. It felt so strange, using a false one at first. But Laslow is what I’ve always been called here, the name I’ve used as I’ve built a new home. At the same time, I miss my first home so terribly sometimes that I feel like my real name is one of the only ties I have left to it.”

“I see,” Saizo murmured. “Do you have a strong preference for one over the other?”

“I don’t think so, not really. It just felt kind of weird hearing you say my name.”

Saizo looked at him for several moments in silence before eventually saying, “I think you could use both.”

Laslow frowned. “Hm? How?”

“Everyone here knows you as Laslow, so it would seem strange to suddenly ask to be called by something else. But I—” Saizo cleared his throat and averted his eye. “I like Inigo. I feel privileged to know this about you.”

“Aww!” Laslow wasn’t trying to tease Saizo, but the ninja scowled at him anyway. “You’re so cute.”

“I take back what I said.”

Laslow chuckled. “No, you don’t.” Saizo just grunted. “To respond to your idea, I think I’d like it if you called me that. Sort of like a secret. Just between us.”

“Not in public.”

“Of course, that’s fine.” Laslow—Inigo—stepped back into Saizo’s arms. “Mm. Maybe I should give you a nickname to even things up,” he said.

“I’m fine without one.”

The dancer looked up at Saizo, eyes glittering mischievously. “Why not, _muffin_?”

“Oh, gods,” Saizo huffed. “Never. I will ignore you if you call me that.”

Inigo giggled. “Okay, okay, we’ll figure one out later.”

“Or not at all.”

“Oh, it’s happening, so just get used to the idea.”

“...No nicknames in public. End of discussion.”

“Haha, I knew you’d see it my way. Now kiss me already.”

 

.~.~.

 

After parting ways for a bit, the dancer met Saizo waiting just inside one of the rear entrances of the palace. The ninja’s arms were crossed as he glanced all around, as if he didn’t want to be seen. “Good, you’re here.”

Laslow chuckled. “Were you worried I wouldn’t be?” He badly wanted to kiss Saizo, hold his hand, do _something_ to try to comfort him, but he knew that the Hoshidan’s shyness was compounding onto his anxiety and paranoia. He settled for keeping as little distance as possible between them as they walked down the hall to the throne room.

After hesitating for a moment that seemed to stretch on into eternity, Saizo pushed open the door; Laslow’s eyes widened as he took in the resplendence of everything, his mouth falling open slightly as he took it all in. The soon-to-be king was finishing discussing something with a smartly dressed man who Laslow had learned was named Yukimura, and when he’d finished, he turned to welcome them.

“Saizo,” he began, “good afternoon. What seems to be the issue? You seemed on edge when you asked to speak with me.” Laslow noticed with an increasing amount of respect that the high prince abstained from sitting on his throne, instead standing with Saizo to put them on more equal ground.

Saizo took a deep breath and began. “Lord Ryoma, as you know, I made a solemn oath to never conceal anything from you. I believe that that vow applies to the matter at hand.”

“Of course. Although, I can only assume that it pertains to your companion.” He gave Laslow a little smile, nodding politely. “Laslow, correct? Xander’s retainer. I seem to remember you taking a hit in my place, some time back.”

“Yes, your highness.”

Ryoma nodded again, gaze returning to his retainer. “Please, Saizo, speak freely.”

“Well, um, milord, you are correct in assuming that this is about him. The situation is, uhh...” Laslow looked over to Saizo in concern; the poor man looked to be on the verge of having a panic attack.

“The two of you are in a relationship,” Ryoma finished for him. Both Saizo and Laslow jumped.

“Wh—that—” Saizo spluttered.

Laslow’s face felt like it was on fire. “Milord, how did you know?”

Ryoma’s smile turned sly. “Saizo is not the only ninja that I know.”

Laslow’s brain was melting. Oh, for the love of Naga. Was _nothing_ secret? He was just mortified. And being with a ninja probably wouldn’t help matters in that department. Oh, _Naga_. “Who, er, who told you, if you don’t mind my asking?”

Prince Ryoma’s eyes flickered up to look as the throne room’s doors began to open. “Kaze?” Saizo said, whirling around to see his twin walking through the throne room doors, Princess Sakura at his side. How did Saizo _do_ that? Laslow hadn’t heard a thing. “What is the meaning of this?”

“I’m glad that I have the two of you here,” said Ryoma. “There is something very important to discuss. I have received a report from Igasato.” Saizo seemed to pale at the mention of his birthplace. “Apparently, Igasato was hit by a crippling Vallite attack only a few months ago. Of course, there have not been any of these attacks in Hoshido or Nohr since the fighting ceased, meaning that your village has now begun extensive rebuilding and reorganization. They've made some headway already, but the village needs more voices of leadership to assist in their projects, to help it heal and lead the people to a more prosperous future. Igasato needs a Saizo.”

The air grew still and thin. Laslow felt like his airway was constricting as he dimly recalled Saizo’s words to him so long ago. _Several regions in Hoshido are becoming more progressive_ , he’d said. Igasato—a ninja village led by centuries-old honorable clans—was not one of them. Laslow glanced over at Saizo, only to see the redhead staring vacantly at the floor. He looked...defeated. Laslow never thought that he’d see that look on Saizo in his entire life, and it felt like his heart was being sliced to ribbons. “I see,” said Saizo in the quietest voice Laslow had ever heard him use.

“If I may, your majesty.” Kaze gracefully stepped forward, Princess Sakura clutching his hand nervously.

The king gave him a raised eyebrow. “We’re practically brothers, now—please, call me Ryoma.”

Kaze blinked rapidly. “If you insist. Brother.” He turned to Saizo, who didn’t look up. “Ryoma and I have discussed the situation extensively; I hope you will forgive us for doing so without you, but time is short. What we ask of you may be difficult to accept, but I earnestly ask that you consider our proposition.”

Ryoma spoke up after Kaze, fixing his strong gaze onto the other ninja. “Saizo, as you have likely observed, my responsibilities to Hoshido have increased significantly since the war ended, and will only continue to do so after my ascension to the throne. Maintaining a strong, reliable network of servants and advisers is a high priority of mine. As such, it would be in poor judgment to send away a retainer who has been with me for years and is now indispensable. We ask that you remain here, at Shirasagi, and continue in your role as my foremost retainer. Do you have any objections to this?”

Saizo didn’t move, frozen as if he were made of marble, both of his eyes wide open in shock. “...Huh?” his voice sounded strangled.

Ryoma grinned slightly, and Laslow’s breathing started to pick up a bit as he stared at the ninja. “We’re asking you to stay here. Of course, this also means that you may stay with this good man.” He gestured to Laslow, but the dancer refused to take his eyes off Saizo.

“But, my lord...you do not worry of receiving disapproval from the Saizo clan?”

Ryoma’s bearing seemed more regal and determined at the question. “If the clan has any objections, they may voice them freely. However, considering that Kaze is your same age and his eventual heirs will be of royal blood, I hardly think that your clan will be too disinclined to approve of my decision.”

“Though I may not share your first name, Brother,” said Kaze, “I am just as much a Saizo as you are.”

“B-but I don’t—they won’t—”

“Saizo.” The prince’s gaze was firm at first, then it softened as he looked at his flustered retainer reassuringly. “Despite what your instincts might be telling you, you deserve happiness.”

Now Saizo just looked really suspicious. “But—”

Prince Ryoma let out a huff that sounded a little amused. “No more ‘but’s, Saizo. Will you accept the offer?”

Saizo looked over at Laslow almost helplessly, and Laslow felt his hopes and fears careening around in his head wildly. He knew that Saizo’s devotion to both clan and master were stronger than iron, stronger than perhaps anything else in the world. Laslow knew that he loved him, he did, but he couldn’t make Saizo’s decision for him. So Laslow smiled up at him as he realized that he’d do whatever the hell it took for Saizo to be happy.

In that smile, Saizo seemed to find his answer. “Yes.” Something in Laslow’s chest felt as if it would burst, but not in a bad way. Not in a bad way at all. It felt like he was so surprised, so shocked into happiness, that he couldn’t even cry (for which he thanked whatever gods may have been listening).

“Well!” replied Ryoma, clapping his hands together. “Now that that’s settled, I think it’s time that we have a chat with your liege, Laslow.”

Oh, fuck. Laslow had forgotten about that completely. “Hhh...okay. Yes. Right.”

“Come with me, the both of you,” said Ryoma, making his way to leave the room. “We’ve set up the Nohrian royals in some guest rooms in the North wing.”

“Of course, milord,” answered Laslow, starting to walk after him. As he passed through the doors, though, he saw only Princess Sakura walking right behind him. “Milady, what—” he began, but she just looked up at him with a shy, tiny smile.

“L-let’s just give them a moment,” she stuttered in that adorable way of hers. He followed her through the doors, but not before he glanced back to see that the brothers were embracing, Saizo’s shoulders shaking as they held one another tightly.

 

.~.~.

 

The meeting with Prince Xander went well, all things considered. He was, of course, calm and rational as Laslow explained what had been going on after Prince Ryoma had given the initial summary.

“I just, well, I hate the thought of disappointing you,” Laslow fumbled, refusing to meet Xander’s eye. “Being your retainer has been a tremendous honor that I will cherish for the rest of my life, but—”

“Laslow,” the prince interjected, nipping the poor man’s babbling in the bud, “do you remember what I told you during our conversation about my other retainers?” Laslow met his lord’s gaze and nodded slowly. “I told you that I do not absolutely require your company. Knowing that you continue to draw breath is enough for me.”

“Milord, I...” Laslow trailed off, lost for words.

The subtle smile that graced Xander’s lips curled into a bit of a smirk as he lofted an eyebrow at Ryoma. “I must say that I wasn’t expecting you to poach my retainer, Prince Ryoma.”

Ryoma laughed heartily. “It wasn’t my intention, I assure you.”

“Still, I am rather hesitant to let Laslow go so completely. Do you have some time to spare for a discussion?”

“Certainly.”

“Uh, we’ll just step out, then,” said Laslow, tugging Saizo along by the arm. “Thank you so much for your time.” When they’d left the room and slid the door shut, Laslow turned to Saizo and gave him a flabbergasted look. “Holy shit. That went well. Just... _damn_.”

Saizo breathed slowly, in and out, in and out. “You paint with words,” he finally said dryly, looking over to Laslow as they went away from Prince Xander’s chambers.

“Hey.” Laslow lightly bumped his shoulder against Saizo’s bicep. “This has been a big day.”

“Yes.”

“My nerves are shot, and I bet yours are, too.”

“Mhm.”

“In all seriousness, though—” Laslow came to a halt and Saizo turned to face him. “Are you...sure? Are you really, _really_ sure that this is what you want? That I’m—” he looked away and cleared his throat. “I just don’t want you to have any regrets.”

Laslow’s eyes darted down to look at his hand, and the way that Saizo had taken it in one of his, squeezing it firmly. “You’ve given up so much to be here,” he said, and he managed to quell the slight tremor that had slipped into his voice. “To be with _me_. I want us to be as equal as possible. I would do this and more to prove my love.”

Laslow’s lip trembled, and instead of looking worried, Saizo calmly brushed away with his thumb a tear that had slipped down the dancer’s cheek. “I-I don’t—I don’t know what to say. Hell, Saizo, you—”

“You don’t need to say anything. I know.” Saizo closed his eye and leaned down so that their foreheads were touching. “I know.”

 

.~.~.

 

Of course, while love was beautiful and all that, it always came with a fair amount of logistics. Laslow couldn’t stop ruminating about what the princes could have possibly been discussing as he and Saizo went their separate ways, the ninja needing to meet with Kagero.

Laslow wandered around for a bit, seeing that most of the Nohrian soldiers were packing up to leave. Leave...dammit, he needed to find those two!

It was easy; Selena and Odin were away from the rest, standing beneath an overhang of one of the many shops that lined the square. As Laslow approached, they seemed to be in deep conversation, Odin gesticulating wildly as Selena faced him with one hand on a cocked hip. The redhead saw him from over Odin’s shoulder and her eyes narrowed. “And just where have you been?”

Laslow puffed out his cheeks. “Oh, you know...around.”

Selena grunted. “What aren’t you telling us?”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not an idiot. Spill.”

Laslow sighed. “Well, okay. Here’s the thing....” And as succinctly as possible, he apprised them of what had happened the evening before between Saizo and himself. He left out the snogging part, though.

“I can’t believe it,” Selena finally said, her forehead scrunched up. “Are you making this up? Because it always seemed more likely that Saizo would kill you than fall in love with you.”

“You’re making us both sound horrible,” Laslow whined.

“I can’t help it. But anyway, Odin and I got married—and him to a _princess_ , no less—so I...” She averted her gaze. “You should probably be happy, too, just to even things up. I guess.” Laslow grinned enormously at her, and she responded to it with a not-too-annoyed-sounding huff.

“Well, by Marth’s golden diadem!” Odin punched Laslow in the shoulder so enthusiastically that the dancer nearly fell over. “Did I not tell you that all would be well? My prescience has yet again made itself known!”

“Owww.”

“Really, though, I couldn’t be happier for you, buddy.”

“Haha, thanks. It feels pretty damned good right now. Unlike my shoulder.” Odin just laughed obnoxiously. “So, anyway, what are you guys talking about?”

“Take a wild guess,” said Selena.

“Ah. Yes, that. Of course. And?”

Odin spoke up first, sounding hesistant. “To sum things up, I was trying to get around to saying that Elise and I are heading back to Nohr in a few days.”

“So you’re staying.” Selena wasn’t really asking a question.

Odin scratched at his hair. “Well...what else would I do? She’s a princess—I don’t wanna take her away from her realm. Could you imagine what that’d do to her? To her family? I don’t...I don’t want her to feel the way that we did, you know?” Laslow and Selena looked at him silently. “And anyway,” the sorcerer continued with a halfhearted laugh, “Ylisse will have another Owain. I’d like to let him grow up outside of my incredibly intimidating shadow.”

“Yeah. I think I see what you mean,” muttered Selena, her arms folded. “I’ve been thinking about it a lot, too. Staying.”

“Have you told Subaki anything about where we’re from?” asked Laslow.

“No.”

“Neither have I,” added Odin. “Told Elise anything, that is—not Subaki. Why, have you talked about it with Saizo?”

Laslow made a face. “Uh...”

“Gawds. I told you that you’d be the one to crack.” Selena didn’t even look like she had the energy to further scold him. “He probably thinks you’re insane. You’re lucky that he’s so obsessed with you.” Laslow made to voice his indignation, but she continued. “Anyway, Subaki’s a damn noble and in charge of a lot of things, _and_ he’s a retainer, so I’d feel like a jerk for pulling him away from all of that. And yeah, there’s gonna be another Severa, so I don’t want to just be a waste of space back home.”

“You wouldn’t ‘be a waste of space’, Selena, and you know it,” Laslow rebutted gently.

She scoffed in annoyance, but still gave the dancer a little smile. “Still, I’ve made up my mind. Maybe I’ll tell him someday. Maybe not. But I’m happy now, and that feels...nice. Besides, I—I’ve got other things to think about, now.”

Laslow’s eyes flashed to the way that Selena’s hand unconsciously pressed against her stomach. “No,” he said, his eyes lighting up. “Selena...are you pregnant?”

She went scarlet. “S-so what if I am?” she snapped. “I dare you to say something stupid!”

Odin whooped, doing a fist pump as he jumped into the air. “Congratulations, dearest friend! Oh, I was certain that there had to be _some_ reason as to why your dark moods have been even more opaque as of late!”

“Odin, I swear to Naga—”

“Goodness, Odin,” Laslow cut in, “she may be pregnant, but she still has a sword and two fists. You may want to watch yourself.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Odin agreed. “Wow,” he said, turning to Laslow, “you must be pretty committed if you told Saizo everything.”

Laslow could feel himself blushing a bit. “Definitely.”

“So...?”

“I’m going to stay.” Not a sliver of doubt remained. “It’s going to hurt for a bit, knowing that my parents will wonder where I’ve gone, but it’ll be okay. For all I know, they already have a new baby Inigo to take care of. I won’t ask Saizo to go back with me. ...I’d say that he’s made plenty of sacrifices in his life.”

“Yeah.” Odin sighed as they stood there, looking at one another. “You’re right. It’s going to hurt.”

“That’s just it, isn’t it?” Laslow replied with a chuckle. “Life can hurt. But it makes the good times feel even better, right?”

“You’re such a sap,” said Selena with a roll of her eyes.

“Ha, I guess I am. Anyway, I’ve got to go take care of a few things. I’ll make sure to find you and say goodbye before you leave, Odin. See you later, Selena.”

“May the omnipotent gods guide you in your quest, Laslow of the Indigo Skies!” exclaimed Odin. Laslow let out a little snort as he laughed.

 

.~.~.

 

It was amazing, really.

Valla had been redeemed, Corrin and Niles settling into the hefty task of rebuilding the once-forgotten kingdom. Several months later, Hoshido and Nohr were _thriving_. Nohr’s geography was mostly unsuitable for agriculture, but the country did have a long and successful history of manufacturing, metalwork, and rich mines. Once the governments of both nations actually put aside old grudges and sat down together like adults, several trade agreements arose that benefited each side equally.

As it turned out, on the day that Saizo and Laslow had approached their lieges, Princes Xander and Ryoma had discussed Laslow’s future in Hoshido. With the socioeconomic environments of both countries evolving so rapidly, several governmental and diplomatic postitions had opened up in order to accommodate the status changes. Together, they’d easily been able to find Laslow a job as a diplomatic liaison, which was a good fit, since he already had experience in court matters and the like. It meant that he’d be able to travel to Nohr several times a year, something to which Laslow very much looked forward.

And things with Saizo...well. Laslow wasn’t sure that he was creative enough to come up with a scenario where they were even closer than they were now. The dancer sometimes got lost in thought, amazed that he’d gone from a war-torn orphan to being this content. Saizo rarely wore his mask, anymore, something which gave Laslow immense satisfaction. He no longer really had anything to hide from the world.

On an afternoon like any other, Laslow found himself and Saizo together on a day off, relaxing on a little bench beneath a cherry blossom tree that rested at the edge of the castle town’s central square. “I’m glad that those stuffed nobles didn’t give you too much trouble,” Saizo finished.

Laslow rolled his eyes. “Oh, I can handle them, despite it sometimes feeling like I’m herding cats.”

Saizo let out a little chuckle. “And Odin?”

“Doing just fine. Princess Elise’s baby is due in a little over a month, and he keeps insisting that they’re going to name it Ophelia if it’s a girl. Which is...interesting, I suppose. Just like him.”

“It is. Perhaps the two of them can bring the child to meet Caeldori, someday.”

“Heh, that would be a sight to see. Oh—that reminds me: Lord Xander told me about how the royal families will be meeting up next month. They’re still thick as thieves. Anyway, he requested that I come along with you and the other retainers. We’ll just have to run it by Lord Ryoma, but I doubt he’ll object. I deserve a break.”

“Mm. It will be good to go together.”

“Yeah. I’m just...I’m glad that things are working out.”

Saizo’s hand hesitantly shifted to cover his own, so Laslow flipped his over to lace their fingers together. “Thank you,” the ninja murmured. “You know that I’m no poet, but...thank you.”

Laslow grinned serenely. “Love you, too.” They sat in comfortable silence, the warm breeze wafting the scent of the blossoms in the tree over their heads into the town square. Suddenly, Laslow let out a little laugh.

“What is it?” asked Saizo, looking at him quizzically.

“Oh, just...d’you realize how insane this all is?” Laslow looked down, adjusting his obi for what must have been the tenth time in as many minutes (but man, he loved Hoshidan clothing). “I mean, our countries could’ve gone to full-out war in the blink of an eye. Either one of us could’ve _died_.” His voice became quiet, reflective. “In countless other lives, we might never have even met each other.”

“‘Countless other lives’, eh?” Laslow felt Saizo brush a lock of his hair behind his ear, and warmth radiated from where the ninja had touched him. “Lives where the angry ninja and the dancing duelist had never known each other.” His lover snorted quietly; Laslow glanced over to see that he was giving him a look that was a mixture of solemnity and fondness. “I pity all of those other Saizos.”

At those words, at that look that he was being given, Laslow couldn’t resist taking advantage of Saizo’s maskless state. Smiling like a fool, he leaned up and gave the redhead a quick kiss on the corner of his mouth. Saizo curled an arm around the smaller man’s waist as they sat and watched the children play in the square, shouting and laughing and running about madly. “I guess we’re just the luckiest people in all the worlds, then,” said Laslow, making a small noise of contentment as he leaned his head on Saizo’s shoulder. _His_ Saizo’s shoulder, he mentally corrected. Gods, he’d never grow tired of thinking that.

Saizo’s face had gone pink, but Laslow felt the ninja lightly press his lips to the crown of his head. “Hmph. We would be if you’d stop stealing all of the blankets at night.”

Laslow’s carefree laughter rippled in the wind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to name the songs that primarily acted as motivation while I was writing, two each for Saizo and Laslow, because music is such a monumental part of my creative process and these artists deserve recognition. Saizo’s inspiration songs are “Paper Thin” by Astrid S, and “Brave Enough” by A R I Z O N A. Laslow’s songs are “heart” by flor, and “Someone to You” by BANNERS. I hope you like at least one of them, haha.
> 
> For the final time, thanks again for reading. I also want to thank my cousin, Rachel, for convincing me that I _could_ give these two a happy ending, despite my initial doubts. I can’t wait to move on to my other projects, many of which are already in the works. Love you all!


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